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1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

/ 


^'^-.'-^ 


""v.. 


■\m 


■f 


..fit:.- 


k 


PERILS 


or  tan 


OCEAN    AND    WILDERNESS: 


OB, 


larratiks  ai  Sfeiitomfe  anlr  Inbian  €^iMtl 


GLEANED  FROM  EARLY  MISSIONARY  ANNALd. 


8T 


JOHN    GILMARY    SHEA, 

4OTH0B  OF  THK   "DISCOVERY  AKO    KXPLOHATION    OF  THE    M.S3IS8irPI» 

HISTORY    CF    THE     CATHOLIC     MISSIONS,"     "SCHOOL 

HISTORY  OF  THE   CSITED  8TATB8,"  KTO. 


BOSTON: 
PATRICK    DONAHOE. 

1857. 


/ 


fC  ii5.  053 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGI. 
The  Shipwreck  of  Father  Charles  Lalemant,  Father  Philibert  Nov. 
rot,  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  and  others,  ofiF  Cape  Breton.        .        .         g 

CHAPTER  II. 

Captivity  of  Father  Isaac  Jogues,   of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  amonir 
the  Mohawks.  ...  . 

16 

CHAPTER  in. 
Captivity  and  death  of  Reno  Goupil. «- 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Death  of  Father  Jogues.      .  •    .       .       ,       ,       •       .       .       .       0» 

CHAPTER  V. 
Captivity  of  Father  Francis  Joseph  Bressani,  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.       104 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Voyages  and  Shipwrecks  of  Father  Emmanuel  Crespel,  ReooUect  of 

the  order  of  St.  Francis.         .       .  ,,, 

15* 


fr 


PREFACE. 


No  works  are  more  popular,  or  generally  read, 
than  those  describing  the  perils  bj  sea  and  land, 
through  which  the  writers  have  passed;  and 
one  work  of  fiction,  the  Robinson  Crusoe  of 
Defoe,  will  ever  be  a  favorite  from  its  apparent 
reahty,  its  combination  of  perils  from  shipwreck 
and  penis  from  the  barbarous  savage,  which  the 
imagmary  hero  recounts. 

No   fiction  can   equal  the   real   sufferings  of 
every  kind  endured  by  the  early  missionaries  to 
this   country      like    Saint   Paul,  they  might 
indeed    speak   of   their  perils-perils   by   sea, 
perils  by  land,  perils  from  robbers,  perils  from 
false  brethren.     Fortunately  for  our  edification, 
many  of  them  left  narratives  of  their  adven- 
tures, and  some  of  these,  we  have  gathered  in 
this  volume   from  various   sources,   which   we 
™.ght    call    original.     They    comprise    Father 
Charles  Lalemant's  narrative  of  his  shipwreck  off 
tape  Breton,  taken  from  the  Voyages  de  Cham- 


I 


▼L 


PREFACE. 


plain,  published  at  Paris  in  1632 ;  the  narrative 
of  Father  Jogues*  captivity,  taken  from  a  sworn 
copy,  preserved  at  Montreal,  and  from  that 
printed  in  the  Societas  Militans  of  Tanner ;  the 
captivity  and  death  of  Rene  Goupil  from  the 
autograph  of  the  martyred  Jogues ;  Letters  of 
Father  Jogues  from  the  Relations  de  la  Noiivelle 
France,  and  sworn  copies ;  the  captivity  of  Father 
Bressani,  from  his  work  Breve  Relatione,  published 
at  Macerata,  in  1653 ;  and  the  thrilling  account 
given  by  Father  Crespel  of  his  shipwreck  on 
Anticosti,  being  the  whole  of  the  little  volume 
published  by  him  at  Frankfort,  Maine,  in  1742. 

New  York,  Anniversary  of  the  death  > 
of  Father  Jogues,  1856.  \ 


JOHN  GILMARY  SHEA. 


Ifrils  of  tk  (Dmn  aiilr  iailkrntss. 


PERILS 


Of    TBI 


OCEAN    AND     WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BHIPWI^CIC  OF  FATHER  CHARLES  LALEMANT.  PHILIBEET  NOTBOT 
AND  OTHERS,  OFF  CAPE  DRETON. 

The  writer  of  the  following  letter  wa,  one  of  the  most  eminent 
of  the  early  Jesmt  miMionaries  in  Canada,  -.vhere  several  other. 
0.  h,8  family  were  distinguished,  and  one,  the  illustrious  Father 
Mkns         °""''  ^^  •  """'y'  "•  ^^  »"'  <■<"  "'»  conversion  of  the 

cJ».W  ?P ''  ^"''T'-  '  '"  °'"''  ^'^"  I^'™""'.  Lieutenant 
Chm  n,,  of  p.„,,  born  in  that  city  in  1387.     He  entered  the 

Society  of  Jesus  at  the  age  of  twenty,  and  was  soon  followed  by  his 

of  St^S,       .  «'"'  r  °""  °f  *"  "■-ionarle,  at  the  colon, 

of  St.  Savior  s  on  Mount  Desert  Wand,  in  Maine,  in  1613,  and  was 
«.ere  taken  pnsoner.    He  was  subsequently  Rector  of  the  College  a 

?heS,T  '^"V"  '"PI'"''''  '-"'.""■•eaohingthemouthof 

Quebl  h»7h  "'".  I"  "i'  ?""""  °f  '"''■  ">'  ""P'^i"  ''■'"'d  that 
Quebec  had  been  taken  by  the  English.    In  endeavoring  to  sail  b„.  k. 

the  V  seel  was  ost.    Father  Lalemant  thus  describes  the  shipwr^k 

T^  i  K  '  r  ■'n  ^''P'""'-    "^^  "^''"'^  fr™  «>^  French,  aZh.' 

ttt    '  "'V""S"°"'  C"-™?'-.  » 'he  edition  of  his  vZ^ 
which  appeared  at  Paris  in  1632.  voyages 


I 


^is- 


10 


PERILS      OF     THE 


LETTER. 


iiil 


"  *  The  Lord  chastising  has  chastised  me  ;  but  he  hath 
not  delivered  me  over  to  death.' " — (Psalms  cxvii.  18.) 
A  chastisement  the  more  severe,  as  the  shipwreck  has 
been  attended  by  the  death  of  the  Kev.  Father  Philibert 
Noyrot,  and  of  our  brother,  Louis  Malot,  two  men  who 
would,  it  seems  to  me,  have  been  of  great  service  to  our 
seminary.  Yet,  as  God  has  so  disposed,  we  must  seek 
consolation  in  his  holy  will,  out  of  which  there  never 
was  a  solid  or  contented  mind,  and  I  am  sure  that  expe- 
rience has  shown  your  reverence  that  the  bitterness  of 
our  sorrows,  steeped  in  the  sweetness  of  God's  good 
pleasure,  when  a  soul  binds  itself  indissolubly  to  that, 
loses  all  or  most  of  its  gall,  or,  if  some  sighs  yet  remain 
for  past  or  present  afflictions,  it  is  only  to  aspire  the 
more  for  heaven,  and  meritoriously  perfect  that  con- 
formity in  which  the  soul  has  resold  ed  to  spend  the  rest 
of  its  days. 

"  Of  the  four  members  of  our  Society  in  the  ship, 
God,  dividing  equally,  has  taken  two  and  left  the  two 
others.  These  two  good  religious,  well  disposed,  and 
resigned  to  death,  will  serve  as  victims  to  appease  God's 
wrath  justly  excited  against  us  for  our  faults,  and  to 
render  his  goodness  favorable  henceforth  to  the  success 
of  our  designs. 

"What  destroyed  our  vessel  was  a  violent  south- 
wester,  which  arose  when  we  were  off  the  coast ;  it  was 
so  impetuous  that,  with  all  the  care  and  diligence  of  our 
captain  and  crew,  with  all  the  vows  and  prayers  which 
we  could  offer  to  avert  the  blow,  we 


could 


not  avoiu 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS, 


a 


being  driven  on  the  rocks,  on  the  26th  day  after  our 
departure,  feast  of  St.  Bartholomew,  about  9  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  Of  twenty-four  that  were  in  the  vessel, 
only  ten  escaped ;  the  rest  were  engulphed  in  the  waves. 
Father  Noyrot's  two  nephews  shared  their  uncle's  fate. 
We  interred  the  bodies  of  several,  among  others,  of 
Father  Noyrot  and  Brother  Louis.  Of  seven  others, 
we  have  had  no  tidings  in  spite  of  all  our  search. 

"  To  tell  you  how  Father  Vieuxport  and  I  escaped, 
would  be  difficult,  and  I  believe  that  God  alone  knows, 
who,  according  to  the  designs  of  his  divine  providence, 
has  preserved  us ;   for,  for  my  own  part,  not  deeming  it 
possible,  humanly  speaking,  to  avoid  the  dangers,  I  had 
resolved  to  stay  in  the  cabin  with  Brother  I^ouis,  pre- 
paring ourselves  to  receive  the  death  stroke,  which  could 
not  be  delayed  over  three  Misereres,  when  I  heard  some 
one  calling  me  on  deck.     Supposing  that  my  assistance 
was  needed,  I  ran  up  and  found  that  it  was  Father  Noy- 
rot, who  asked  me  to  give  him  absolution.     After  giv- 
ing it,  and  singing  the   Salve  Regina  with  him,  I  had 
to  stay  on  deck  ;  for  there  was   no   way  to   get  below  j 
for  the  sea  was  so  high  and  the  wind  so  furious,  that,  iu 
less  than  a  moment,  the  side  on  the  rock  went  to  pieces. 
I  was  close  by  Father  Noyrot  when  a  wave  broke  so 
impetuously  against  the   side  where  we  were  standing, 
that  it  dashed  it  to  pieces,  and  separated  me  from  Father 
Noyrot,    from   whose    lips   I  heard  these  last  words  : 
*  *  Into  thy  hands  I  commend  mij   spirit.'     For  my  own 
part,  this  same  wave  left  me   struggling  amid  four  frag- 
ments of  the  wreck,  two  of  which  struck  me  so  violently 
on  the  chest,  and  the  other  two  on  the  back,  that  I  ex- 
pected to  be  killed  before  smking  forever ;  but,  just 


*.^ 


12 


PEKILS     OP     THE 


then,  another  wave  disengaged  me  from  the  fragments, 
sweeping  oflf  my  cap  and  slippers,  and  scattered  the  rest 
of  the  ship  over  the  sea.     I  fortunately  fell  on  a  plank 
to  which  I  clung  ;  it  was  connected  with  the  rest  of  the 
side  of  the  ship.     Ther€  we  were  then  at  the  mercy  of 
the  waves,  which  did  not  spare  us,  rising  I  cannot  tell 
how  many  feet  above  our  heads,  and  then  breaking  over 
us.     After  floating  thus  a  long  while  in  ^he  dark,  for 
night  had  set  in,  I  perceived,  on  looking   around  me, 
that  I  was   near  the  shore  of  what  seemed  to  be  an 
island,  which  almost  surrounded  us,  and  was   covered 
with  brambles.     Looking  a  little    more  attentively,  I 
made  out  six  persons  not  far  from  me,  two  of  whom 
perceiving  me,' urged  me  to  do  my  best  to  join  them  ,• 
this  was  not  easy,   for  I   was  greatly  enfeebled  by  the 
blows  I  had  received  from  the  fragments  of  the  wreck.    I 
exerted  myself,  however,  so  much  that,  by  the  help  of 
my  planks,  I  at  last  reached  them,  and  by  their  aid  got 
on  the  mainmast,  which  was  still  fast  to  part  of  the  ship. 
I  was  not  here  long  ;  for,  as  we  got  nearer  the  island, 
our  sailors   quickly  got  ashore,  and,  by  their  help,  all 
the  rest  of  us  were  soon  there.    There  we  were,  seven 
in  all ;  I  had  no  hat  or  shoes ;  my  cassock  and  clothes 
ail  torn,  and  my  body  so  bruised  that  I  could  scarcely 
stand  up,  and,  in  fact,  they  had  to  support  me  to  en- 
able me  to  reach  the  wood.     I  had  two  severe  contu- 
sions  on  the  legs,  especially  the   right  one,  which  is 
still  painful ;  my  hands  cloven  open  and  bruised ;  my   - 
hip  torn,  and  my  chest  much  injured.     Wo  now  re- 
tired to  the  wood  wet  as  we  came  from  the  sea.    Our 
first  care  was  to  thank  God  for  preserving  us,  and  to 
pray  for  those  who  were  lost.     That  done,  we  Isy  down 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


18 


close  by  each    other    in    order  to  try  and  get  warm, 
but  the  ground  and  the  grass,  still  wet  with  the  heavy 
rain,  was  not  much  fitted  to  dry  us.     Thus  we  spent  the 
rest   of  the    night,  during    which    Father  Vieuxport, 
who,  thank  God,  was  unhurt,  slept   well      The  next 
morning,  at  daybreak,  we  began  to  examine  the  spot 
where  we  were,    and   found  it  to  be  an   island    from 
which  we  could  pass  to  the  main  land.     On  the  shore 
we  found    many  things   that  the    sea   had  thrown  up  ; 
among  which  I  picked  up  two  shoes,  a  cap,  hat,  cassock, 
and  other  necessary  articles.     Above  all.   Providence 
sent  us,  in  our  want,  five  kegs  of  wine,  ten  pieces  of 
pork,  oil,  bread,   cheese,  and  a  gun  and  powder,  which 
enabled  us  to  strike  a  fire.     After  we  had  thus  gathered 
all  we  could,   on  St.   Louis'  day,  all  set  to  work  to  do 
their  best  to  build  a  boat  out  of  fragments  of  the  wreck, 
in  which  to  coast  along  till   we  found  a  fishing-smack! 
We  set  to  work  with  the  wretched  tools  we  found,  and 
it  was  pretty  well  advanced  on  the  fourth  day,  when  we 
perceived  a   craft   sailing   towards   the  spot  where  we 
were.     They   took  on   board   one   of  our   sailors,  who 
swam  out  near    to   where  they  were   passing,  and  took 
him  to  their  captain.     That  worthy  man,  hearing  of  our 
misfortunes,  let  down  his  boat,  and  came  ashore  to  offer 
us  a  passage.     We  were  thus  saved  ;  for,  the  next  day, 
we  all  slept  on  board.     It  was  a  Basque  vessel,  fishing 
about  a  league  and  a  half  from  the  rock  where  we  struck, 
and,  as  their  fishing  season  was  far  from  being  gone' 
we  stayed  with   them  the  rest  of  August  and  all  the 
month  of  September.     On  the  first  of  October,  an  In- 
•^...v-  vo   vcxx  tftc  uapium  tnai,  ii  ne  ma  not  sail,  he 
risk  of  being  taken  by  the  EngHsh.     This  news 

9 


ran 


14 


PERILS     OF     THE 


made  him  give  up  his  fishing,  and  prepare  for  the 
voyage  home.  The  same  Indian  told  ns  that  Captain 
Daniel  was  building  a  house  twenty-five  leagues  oflf, 
and  had  some  Frenchmen  there  with  one  of  our  fathers. 
Father  Vieuxport  had  already  pressed  me  very  hard  to 
let  him  stay  with  this  Indian,  who  was  really  one  of  the 
best  that  could  be  found.  I  now  told  him,  "  Here, 
father,  is  a  means  of  satisfying  your  reverence.  Father 
Vimont  will  not  be  sorry  to  have  a  companion.  This 
Indian  offers  to  take  you  to  Daniel's  place  ;  if  you  wish 
to  stay  there,  you  may ;  if  you  wish  to  spend  a  few 
months  with  the  Indians  and  learn  the  language,  you 
may  do  so,  and  both  Father  Vimont  and  yourself 
will  be  satisfied."  The  good  father  was  quite  delighted 
at  the  opportunity,  and  set  off  in  the  Indian's  canoe.  I 
let  him  have  all  we  had  saved,  except  the  large  paint- 
ing which  our  Basque  captain  had  taken,  and  which  I 
would  have  made  him  give  up,  if  another  disaster  had 
not  befallen  us.  We  left  the  coast  on  the  sixth  of 
October,  and  after  more  violent  storms  than  I  had  yet 
ever  seen,  on  the  fortieth  day  of  our  voyage,  as  we  were 
entering  a  port  near  San  Sebastian  in  Spain,  we  were  a 
second  time  wrecked.  The  vessel  went  into  a  thousand 
pieces,  and  all  the  Ush  was  lost.  All  that  I  could  do 
was  to  get  into  a  boat  in  slippers  and  nightcap  as  I  was, 
and,  in  that  guise,  go  to  our  Father's  at  San  Sebastian. 
I  left  there  a  week  after,  and,  on  the  20th  of  the  pres 
ent  month,  reached  Bourdevac,  near  Bordeaux. 

"  Such  was  the  issue  of  our  voyage,  by  which  you  may 
see  how  great  reason  we  have  to  be  thankful  to  God. 

Charles  Lalemant,  S,  J. 

Bordeaux,  November  22,  1629.' 


» 


:-mi 


OCEAN     AND     WILDEBNESS. 


15 


Although  thus  twice  wrecked,  and  once  a  prisoner,  Father  Lale- 
mant  was  not  to  be  repulsed  from  the  Canada  mission.  He  came 
out  agam  in  1634,  and  began  his  projected  school  at  Quebec.  After 
attending  Champlain  on  his  death-bed,  he  returned  to  France, 
and  died  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty-seven,  having  been  success- 
ively rector  of  th©  colleges  of  Rouen,  La  Fleche,  and  Paris,  and  being, 
at  the  time  of  Us  death,  Superior  of  the  Professed  House  in  his 
native  czty.  Besides  the  foregoing  narrative  of  his  shipwreck,  he 
wrote  a  Relation  of  the  first  Jesuit  mission  to  Canada,  published  in 
t^ercure  lyunpais,  and  '' Entretieruf  sur  la  vie  cacUe  de  Jesm 
Chnsidana  r  Ewharistie,"  sl  new  edition  of  which  has  just  been 
pubhshed  in  France,  edited  by  Father  A.  Cadres. 


16 


. 


i! 


PERILS     OP     THB 


CHAPTER  II. 

CAPTIVITY  OF  FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES  AMONG  TBI  M0HAWK8. 

Father  Isaac  Jogues,  the  writer  of  the  following 
narrative,  was  born  at  Orleans,  in  France,  in  1607,  and 
embracing  the  rule  of  St.   Ignatius,  became  a  member' 
of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  in  1624.     Although  a  poet  and 
scholar,   he   sought  a  foreign  mission,  and  was  sent   to 
Canada  soon  after  his  ordination  in  1636.     After  a  short 
stay   at    Miscou,    he  proceeded   to   the   country  of  the 
Wendats   or  Hurons,  in   Upper  Canada,  and  remained 
there  amid   every  privation  till  1642,  when  he  was  sent 
to  Quebec   by  his   Superior  for  necessaries   of  various 
kinds      On  his  return   voyage,  he  was  taken  prisoner 
and  he  thus  relates  his   sufferings  in  a  letter  written 
Irom   Renssalaerwick,  now  Albany,  to  the  Provincial  in 
France.     The  letter,  which  is  in  a  pure  and  classic  Latin 
was  first  published  hj  Alegamhe,  in  his  Mortes  Ilhstres 
and  subsequently  by  Tanner,  in  his  Societas  Militans 
both  rare  works.     A   sworn  copy  of  the  original  letter 
IS  preserved  at  Montreal  in  manuscript. 

narrative. 

Reverend   Father    in    Christ— the    Peace   op 
CHRisT.-Wishing,  as  I  do,  to  write  to  your  reverence, 
1  hesitate  first  in  which  language  to  address  you,  for 
after  such  long  cJiuse,  almost  equally  forgetful  of  both! 
1  una  equal  difficulty  in  each.     Two  reasons,  however' 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


I'i 


induce  me  to  ^employ  the  less  common  idiom.     I  ^haU 
be  better  able  lb  use  the  words  of  Holy  Scripture,  which 
have  been,  at  all  times,  my  greatest  consolation:  "Amid 
the  tribulations  which  have  found  us  exceedingly."— 
Psalms  xlv.  2.     I  also  wished   this  letter  to  he   less 
open  to  aU.     The  exceeding  charity  of  your  reverence, 
which,  m  other  days,  overlooked  my  manifold  trans- 
gressions, wiU  excuse,  in  a  man  for  eight  years  a  com- 
panion and  associate  of  savages,  nay,  a  savage  now  him- 
sell  m  form   and  dress,  whatever  may  be  wanting  in 
decorum  or  correctness.     I  fear  more  that,  wanting  in 
language,  I  may  be  stiU  more  so  in  knowledge,  "nor 
know  the  time  of  my  visitation,"  nor  remember  what 
character   I   here  bear  imposed  on  me  by   God   as  a 
preacher  of  his  gospel,  a  Jesuit  and  a  priest.     This  in- 
duced me  to  write  to  your  reverence  that,  if  tUs  letter 
should  ever  reach  your  hands,  I  may,  though  lying 
'herein  this  hard  land,   amid   Iroquois  and  Maaquas, 
be  helped  by  your    masses,  and  the  prayers  of  your 
whole  province.    This,  I  am  in  hopes,  will  be  more 
ea^nestly  given,  when,  from  the  perusal  of  this  letter 
you  shall  see,  both  how  much  lam  indebted   to  the 
Almighty,  and  in  what  need  I  am  of  the  prayers  of 
the  pious,  in  which,  I  am  aware,  I  have  a  powerful 
shield. 

We  sailed  from  the  Huron  territory  on  the  13th  of 
June,  1642,  in./our  small  boats,  here  called  canoes ;  we 
were  twenty-three  souls  in  all,  five  of  us  being  French, 
ihis  line  of  travel  is,  in  itself,  most  difficult  for  many 
reasons    and  especially  because,  in  no  less  than  forty 

places,  both  canoes  anri  V»ao-rro«.«  i,„j  i._  i.  •    -  , 

-  -     — &6"6''  "^'^  t"  ue  cariiea  by 

land  on  the  shoulders.     It  was  now  too  fujl  of  danger 

2* 


3^ 


18 


PERILS     OF     THE 


f 


from  fear  of  the  enemy,  who,  every  year,  by  lying  in 
wait  on  the  roads  to   the   French   settlements,  carry  off 
many  as  prisoners ;  and,  indeed.  Father  John  Brebeuf 
was  all    but   taken   the  year  before.     Besides  this,  not 
long  before  they  carried  off  two  Frenchmen,  but  after- 
wards   brought  them  back  to   their    comtrymen    un- 
harmed, demanding  peace  on  most  unjust  terms,  and 
then  conducted  themselves  in  a  very  hostile  manner,  so 
that  they  were    driven  off  by  the    cannons  of  the  fort. 
On  this,  they  declared  that,  if  they  took  another  French-^ 
man  prisoner,  they  would  torture  him  cruelly,  like  their 
other  captives,  and  burn  him  alive  by  a  slow  fire.     The 
Superior,  conscious  of  the  dangers  I  was  exposed  to  on 
this  journey,  which  was,  however,  absolutely  necessary 
for  God's  glory,  so  assigned  the  task  to  me,  that  I  might 
decline  it  if  I  chose  -,  « I  did  not,  however,  resist;  I  did  not 
go  back ;  "  (Isaias  1^  5  i)  but  willingly  and  cheerfully 
accepted  this   mission  imposed  upon  me   by  obedience 
and  charity.     Had  I  declined  it,  it  would  have  fallen  to 
another,  far  more  worthy  than  myself. 

Having,  therefore,  loosed  from  St.  Maiy's  of  the 
Hurons,  amid  ever-varying  fears  of  the  enemy,  dan- 
gers of  every  kind,  losses  by  land  and  water,  we  at  last, 
on  the  thirtieth  day  after  our  departure,  reached  in 
safety  the  Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  This  is  a 
French  settlement  or  colony,  called  Three  Kivers,  from 
a  most  charming  stream  near  it,  which  discharges  itself 
into  the  great  river  St.  Lawrence,  by  three  mouths. 
We  returned  hearty  thanks  to  God,  and  remamed  here 
and  at  Quebec  about  two  weeks. 

The  ^business  which  had  brought  us,  having  been    ' 
concluded,  we  celebrated  the  least  of  our  holy  F      .^r 


'■ 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  19 

Ignatius,  and,  on  the  second  of  August,    were   once 
more  on  our  way  for  Huronia.     The  second  day  after 
our  departure  had  just  dawned,   when,  by  the   early 
ligh  ,   some  of  our  party  discovered  fresh    foot-prints 
on  the  shore.     While  some  were  maintaining  that  they 
were  the  tr«l  of  the  enemy,  others,  that  of  a  friendly 
party,   Eustace  Ahatsistari,  to  whom,   for  his  gallant 
feats  of  arms,  all    yielded   the   first    rank,    exclaimed: 
_  B«,thers  !  be  they  the  bravest  of  the  foe,  for  such  I 
judge  them  by  their  trail,  they  are  no  more  than  three 
canoes    and  we  number  enough  not  to  dread  such  a 
handful  of  the  enemy."     We  were,  in  fact,  forty,  for 
some  other  had  joined  us. 

We  consequently  urged  on  our  way,  but  had  scarcely 
advanced  a  mile,  when   we  fell  into  an  ambush  of  the 
enemy,  who  lay  in  two  divisions  on  the  opposite  bank, 
of  the  river,  to  the  number  of  seventy  in  twelve  canoes. 
As  soon   as  we  reached  the  spot  where  they  lay  in 
ambush,  they  poured  in  a  volley  of  musketry  from  the 
reeds  and  tall  grass,  where  they  lurked.     Our  canoes 
were  nddled,  but,  though  well  supplied  with  fire-arms, 
hey  killed  none,  one  Huron  only  being  shot  through 
the  hand.     At  the  first    report   of  the    fire-arms,  the 
Hurons  almost  to  a  man,  abandoned  the  canoes,  which 
to  avoid  the  more  rapid  current  of  the  centre  of  the 
river,  were  advancing  close  by  the  bank,  and  in  head- 
ing  flight    plunged   into   the   thickest  of  the  woods. 
We    four  Frenchmen,  left  with  a  few,  either  already 
Christians  or  at  least  Catechumens,  ofi-ering  up  a  prayer 
to  Christ  faced  the  enemy.     We  were,  however,  out- 
--,   oemg  ..ax^ci^    tweive  or   iourteen    against 
thi^ty;  yet  we  fought  on,  till  our  comrades,  seeing  fresh 


«0 


PERILS     OF     THB 


■j 


canoes  shoot  out  from  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river, 
lost  heart  and   fled.     Then  a  Frenchman   named  llen6 
Goupd,  who  was   fighting  with  the  bravest,  Wiis   taken 
with  some  of  the  Hurons.     When  I  saw  this,  I  neither 
could,    nor   cared    to    fly.     Where,    indeed,    could    I 
escape,    barefooted   as   I  was  ?     Conceal   myself  amid 
the    reeds    and    tall   grass,    I    could   indeed,  and    thus 
escape;    but   could    I    leave   a    countryman,    and    the 
unchiistened   Hurons  already  taken  or  soon  to  be?.  As 
the  enemy,  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  fugitives,  had  passed 
on,  leaving  me  standing  on  the  battle-field,  I   called  out 
to   one   of  those   who   remained  to  guard  the  prisoners, 
and   bade  him   make  me  a  fellow  captive  to  his  French 
captive,  that,  as  I  had  been  his   companion  on  the  way, 
80  would  I  be  in  his  dangers  and  death.     Scarce  giving 
credit  to  what  he  heard,   and   fearful   for   himself,    he 
advanced  and  led  me  to  the  other  prisoners. 

Dearest  brother,  I  then  exclaimed,  wonderfully  hath 
God   dealt  with  us !  -  but  he  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do 
what  is  good  in   his  sight ;"_1  Kings  iii.    18.     ''As 
It  hath  pleased  him,  so  hath  it  come  to  pass,  blessed  be 
his  name ; »  then,   hearing  his  confession,   I  gave  him 
absolution.     I  now  turned  to  the  Huron  prisoners,  and, 
instructing   them  one  by  one,  baptized  them ;  as  new 
pnsoners  were  constantly  taken  in  their  flight,  my  labor 
wa^  constantly  renewed.     At  length  Eustace  Ahatsistari, 
that  famous   Chl'istian  chief,  was  brought  in ;  when  he 
saw  me,  he  exclaimed,  "  Solemnly  did  I  swear,  brother 
that  I  would  live  or  die  by  thee."     What  I  answered' 
I  know  not,   so  had  grief  overcome  me.     Last  of  all, 
William  Couture  was  dragged  in ;  he  too,   had   set  out 
i_^..«,  ,,^^^  uxc.      Tvucu  lie  saw  ail  m  coniusion. 


OCEAN     AND     WIIBEjin  E3S, 


CI 


he  hml,  wuh  the  rest,  taken  to  the  woods,  and,  being  a 
young  man  endoM-ed  with  great  gifts  in  body  as  well  as 
m  mind,  hud,  by  his  great  agility,  left  the  enemy  far 
beh.nd.     When  he  looked  around  and  could  see  nothing 
of  me.  "  Shall  I,"  he  said  to  himself,  "abandon  my  dej 
ia  her,     pr^oner  in  the  hands  of  savages,  and  fly  with- 
out  h,m  ?     Not  I."     Then  returning  by  the  path  which 
^  had  taken  m  flight,  ho  gav.  himself  up  to  the  enemy. 
Woud   t,.,t    he   had    fled,    nor   swelled  our  mournful 
band .  for,  .„  such  a  case,  it  is  no  comfort  to  have  com- 
panions   especially  those  whom  you  love  as  yourself. 
Yet  such  are  the  souls,  who,  though  but  laymen,  fwith 
no  views  of  earthly  reward,)  serve  God  and  the  Society 
among  the  Hurons.  .  ^ 

It  is  painful  to  think,  even,  of  all  his  terrible  suffer- 
ngs.  The,r  hate  was  enkindled  against  all  the  French, 
but  especially  against  him,  as  they  knew  that  one  o' 
their  bravest  had  fallen  by  his  hand  in  the  fight.  He 
was  eordingly  first  stripped  naked,  all  his  naUs  torn 
out,  his  very  fingers  gnawed,  and  a  broad-sword  driven 
through  his  right  hand.  Mindful  of  the  wound  of 
pur  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  he  bore,  as  he  afterwards    old 

When  I  beheld  him,  thus  bound  and  naked,  I  could 
not  contain  myself,  but,   leaving  my  keepers,  I  rushed 


X 


!  1 


iiii 


22 


PERILS     OF     THB 


less.  Two  of  them  then  dragged  mc  back  to  where  I 
had  been  before,  anu  scarcely  had  I  begun  to  breathe, 
when  some  otliers,  attacking  me,  tore  out,  by  biting, 
almost  all  my  nails,  and  crunched  my  two  fore-fingers 
with  their  teeth,  giving  mo  intense  pain.  The  same 
was  done  to  Ren6  Goupil,  the  Huron  captives  being 
left  untouched. 

When  all  had  come  in  from  the  pursuit,  in  which 
two    Ilurons    w  ere   killed,    they    carried    us  across  the 
river,  and  there  shared  the  plunder  of  the  twelve  canoes, 
(for  eight  had  joined  us.)     This  was  very  great,  for, 
independent  of  what  each  Frenchman  had   with   him, 
we   had  twenty  packages   containing  church   plate   and 
vestments,  books  and  other  articles  of  the  kind ;    a  rich 
cargo  indeed,   considering   the  poverty  of  our  Huron 
mission.     While    they   were    dividing    the    plunder,  I 
completed  the  instruction  of  such  as  were  uncLristened, 
and   baptized   them.     Among    the  rest  was    one    sere] 
octogenarian   chief,    who,    when  ordered   to    enter    the 
canoe  to  be  borne  off  with  the  rest,  exclaimed,  "  How 
shall  I,  a  hoary  old   man,  go  to  a  strange  and  foreign 
land?     Never!  here   will   I    die."     As   he  absolutely 
refused  to  go,  they  slew  him  on  the  very  spot  where  he 
iiaci  just  been  baptized. 

lidiAng  then  a  joyful  shout  which  made  the  forest 
ring,  "  as  conquerors  who  rejoice  after  taking  a  prey," 
( Isaias  ix.  3, )  they  bore  us  off,  twenty-two  captives, 
towai-ds  their  own  land;  three  hud  been  killed.  By 
the  favor  of  God  our  sufferings  on  that  march,  which 
lasted   thirteen*  days,  were  indeed  great— hunger,  and 

*  The  Italian  version  of  F.  Bressani  anH  the  Latin,  as  given  by  Alegambe, 
sjvy  8B.  The  eoutext  suffices  to  Currtct  thie  typographical  fault,  which  is  not 
in  the  Relf^tion  of  1646-7. 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS.  JJ 

out  o,,..  ha...  and  beard,  an.l  drive  their  Ju,  which  are 

7      T  TT  ,'       ""'  suffc^iufT,  affected  me  still   more 
when  I  beho  d  that  funeral  procession  of  doom  d  CW 
tmns  pass  before  my  eyes,  among  them  five  oldconve 
the  ma,n  p.Uars  of  the  infant  Huron  church.  ' 

Indeed,  I  n.genuously  adn.it,  that  I  was  again  and  aeain 

th:^f  TT'  '"'  ''"■'•  """"■""'«  "-their   oS 
hat  of  my  other  companions,  and  full  of  anxious  solic 
Uude   for   the   future.     For  I  beheld   the    way    to    the 
Chnsfan   a.th  closed  by  these  Iroquois,  on  the  Hurons 

cus  om    for    the    savages,    when    out  on  war-  parties   to 
untiute   themselves  as  it   were   by   crueltv    ZT    2 
bpli'pf  flvif    fK  •  -^    t-rueity,    under   the 

behef  that    the.r   success   will   be  greater  as  they  shall 
have  been  more  cruel,  they  thus  received  us.     Firs 
.endermg  thanks  to  the  sun,  which  they  imagine  preSes 

e-.Lneigi5."?if:d:tfrrv;t! 


*Tb 


-  Ihis  xras  on  au  island  in  Lakn  Cha^^i  •        tx 
aome  dotaila  not  i.  the  M^  on^V      "''""    ^"«  *^«  ^^'^ »-' 


inaertfl 


u 


J    'il' 


il) 


PERILS     OF     THE 


When,  therefore,  we  landed  from  the  canoes,  they  fell 
upon  us   from  both  sides   with  their  clubs,  with  such 
fury,  that  I,  who  was  the  Irt,  and  therefore  most  exposed 
to    their    blows,  sank,    o>  3rcome    by  their  number  and 
severity,  before  I  had  accomplished  half  the  rocky  way 
that  led  to   the   hill  on  which  a  stage  had  been  erected 
for  us.     I  thought  I  should  soon  die  there ;  and  so, 
partly  because  I  could   not,  partly  because  I  cared  not, 
1    did  not  arise.     How   long  they  spent  their  fury  on 
me,   he  knows  for  whose  love  and  sake  I  suffered  all 
and  for  whom  it  is  delightful  and  glorious  to  suffer.  J 
Moved  at  length  by  a  cruel  mercy,  and  wishing  to  carry 
me  into  tlieir  countr>  alive,  they  refrained  from  beating 
me.     And,  thus  half  dead,  and  drenched  in  blood,  they 
bore  me  to  the  stage.     I  had  scarce  begun  to  breathe, 
when  they  ordered  me  to  come  down,  to  load  me  with 
scoffs  and  insults,  and  countless  blows  on  my  head  and 
shoulders,  and  indeed  on  my  whole  body.     I  should  be 
tedious  were  I  to  attempt  to  tell  all  that  the    French 
prisoners  suffered.     They  burnt  one  of  my  fingers,  and 
crunched  another  with  their  teeth ;  others  already  thus 
mangled,  they  so  wrenched  by  the  tattered  nerve,  that 
even  now,  though  healed,  they  are  frightfully  deformed! 
^xorinaeed  was  the  lot   of  my   feiiow-sufferers  much 
better. 

But  one  thing  showed  that  God  watched  over  us,  and 
was  trying  us  rather  than  casting  us  off  One  of  these 
savages,  breathing  nought  but  blood  and  cruelty,  came 
up  to  me,  scarce  able  -to  stand  on  my  feet,  and,  seizing 
my  nose  with  one  hand,  prepared  to  cut  it  off  with  a 
large  kmfe   which   he  held  in  the  other.     What  could 


I  do  ?     Belie vinff  that  T  xiTa?  '^'^n 


ii.  to  uQ  uurnt  at  the 


I 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


25 


s,  they  fell 
with  such 
)st  exposed 
umber  and 
rocky  way 
en  erected 
! ;  and  so, 
cared  not, 
!ir  fury  on 
fiered  all, 
)  suffer. — 
ig  to  carry 
m  beating 
lood,  they 
'  breathe, 
me  with 
head  and 
should  be 
3    French 
gers,  and 
:ady  thus 
ve,  that, 
Reformed, 
rs  much 

r  us,  and 
of  these 
;y,  came 
,  seizing 
f  with  a 
at  could 
it  at  the 


4 


stake,    unmoved,  I   awaited  the  stroke,  groaning  to  my 
God   in  heart ;  when   stayed,   as   if  by  a  supernatural 
power,  he  drew  back  his  hand  in  the  very  act  of  cutting. 
About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after,  he  returned,  and  as  if 
condemning   his   cowardice  and  faint-heartedness,  again 
prepared    to    do    it;    when   again   held  back  by  some 
unseen    hand,    he    departed.     Had  he   carried   out   his 
design,   my   fate   was   sealed,   for  it  is  not  their  custom 
to  grant  life  to  captives  thus  mutilated.     At  length,  late 
at  night,  and  last  of  all,  I    was    taken    to    my    captors, 
without  receiving  a  morsel  of  food,  which  I  had  scarcely 
touched  for  several  days.     The  rest  of  the  night  I  spent 
in  great  pain. 

My  sufferings,  great  in  themselves,  were  heightened 
by  the  sight  of  what  a  like  cruelty  had  wreaked  on  the 
Christian  Hurons,  fiercer  than  all  in  the  case  of  Eustace  ; 
for  they  had  cut  off  both  his  thumbs,  and,  through  the 
stump  of  his  left,  with  savage  cruelty,  they  drove  a 
sharp  stake  to  his  very  elbow.  This  frightful  pain  he 
bore  most  nobly  and  piously. 

The  following  day  we  fell  in  with  some  other  war- 
canoes,  who  cut  off  some  of  our  companions'  fingers, 
amid  our  great  dread. 

x\t  last,  on  the  tenth  day,  about  noon,  we  left  our 
canoes,  and  performed  on  foot,  the  rest  of  the  journey, 
which  lasted  four  days.  Besides  the  usual  hardships  of 
the  march,  now  came  that  of  carrying  the  baggage. 
[Although  my  share  of  this  was  done  quite  remissly, 
both  because  I  was  unable,  and  bemuse  I  disdained  to 
do  it,  for  my  spirit  was  haughty,  even  in  fetters  and 
death ;  so  that  only  a  small   package  was  given  me  to 


J 


Wf 


#a   \xrck 


iv.  iiOTT  j-aCu-eti  uy  liuiiger,  irom  me  ever* 


36 


I 


¥  1 


PEniLS     OF     IHE 


increasing  want  of  food.    Thus  tlir„„  i       • 

(and  when,  on  the  fourth   w  '"'  "  ^"^^^««°». 

f^e  vma,4  we  Lted  1m  J~  '^  f  ''^.^'^  ^™'" 
gathered   on   the   wav      T  *""■""''  °°^<-' 

beginning  of  the  mlh  ^,      .  "^  ""''    ^  ''"'' '"  *« 
the   food   whih  our  ^^^f"  '"  '■'^^"'  ""^'^^'f  °f 

that  I  might  no  ofe  trtTel  ;     T"^'  "'"■"""■''>■' 
and  vigorous  fvJTf     r  ^^  ""''  ""•*"'■'''  »  ^'^ng 

^or  food,  it  i"d  :o  h^:  irattr;  '^  '-->  -"^^ 

day,  when  we  halt^,!  f '       '  °"  "'"  ^^cond 

a  large  ietl  on    h^  raTifT  °"  '"^'^'"  ^''^  -' 
was  merely  to  en.bie  u,       T    ,      ^^'P"™  '^"•"' '  l""  it 

thank  our  Lord  Jeius  k    !    1  ^'       '''"  ^™1""^-     I 
-hole  Chri  J  i:     ^,^;:  ;f  ;''  7  *^  ^day  when  the 

Assumption   into   heten  t    *Ld   ul  t '' ''"'^^'•'' 
share  and  fellov.shin  of  his     'ffp  .  '"""  '■""" 

deed,  we  had  durini^.r         ™'^<'""gs  and  eross.     In- 

it  wouM  he  a  i:r:4rd;i;t:\^~ 

been  easy  for  Renfi    ,„ ,  V  '  ^""''^  bave 

the  flames,  for  beW  «nh'"'''f  '°  ""^^  *»'  ^ay  and 
from  our  r;dri       r    .  """^  °ft«°  at  a  distance 

hare  strucf  ff  C  fhf  roa'd  ''%'''^*"^^^  °'  "'S'''' 
should  never  reJchT,  '  ""''  '^""  *°«gb  we 

-t  a  urrde:  7:r::r  r"  ^'  ^^-^ 

au  me,  rather  than  forsake,  in  death,  French- 


OCEAN     AND     WILD  EKX  ESS. 


27 


men   and    Christian    Hurons,    depriving   tliem    of  the 
consolation  which  a  joriest  can  aflbrd. 

On  the  Eve  of  the  Assumption  then  about  3  o'c-lock 
we  reached  a  river  which  flows  by  tlicir  village.  Both 
banks  were  filled  with  Iroquois  and  Hurons  formerly  cap- 
tured, now  coming  forth  to  meet  us,  the  latter  to  salute 
us  by  a  warning  that  w^e  were  to  be  burnt  alive  ;  the  for- 
mer received  us  with  clubs,  fists  and  stones. 

And  as  baldness  or  thin  hair,  a  shaved,  or  lightly  cov- 
ered head  is  an  object  of  their  aversion,  this  tempest  burst 
in  its  fury  on  my  bare  head.  Two  of  my  nails  had  hith- 
erto escaped ;  these  they  tore  out  with  their  teeth,  and 
with  their  keen  nails  stripped  off  the  flesh  beneath  to  the 
very  bones.  When  satisfied  with  the  cruelties  and 
mockeries  wliich  we  thus'received  by  the  river  side,  they 
led  us  to  their  village  on  the  top  of  the  hill. 

At  its  entrance  w^e  met  the  youth  of  all  that   district 
aw^aiting  us  with  clubs,  in  a  line  on  each  side  of  the  road. 
Conscious  that,  if  we  withdrew  ourselves    from    the 
ranks  of  those  chastised,  we  no  less  withdrew  ourselves 
from  that  of  the  childien,  we  cheerfully  offered  ourselves 
to  our  God,  thus  like  a  father  chastising  us,  that  in  us  he 
might  be  well  pleased.     Our  order  was  as   follows  :  in 
the  front  of   the  line  they  placed    a    Frenchman,    alas, 
entirely   naked,   not   having  even  his  drawers.       Eene 
Goupil  was  in  the  centre,  and  I  last  of  all  closed  the  line, 
(we  were  more  fortunate  as  they  had  left   us   our  shirts 
and     drawers.)     The     Iroquois     scattered    themselves 
through  our  lines  between  us  and   the  Hurons,  both  to 
check  our  speed,  and  to  afford  more  time  and  ease  to  our 
torturers,    to    strike    us  thus  separately  as   we   passed, 
-j.ng  ana  cruelly  indeed  did  the  •■  vvickcd  work  upon  my 


38 
back,"  "(Pe 


PERILS     OP     THE 


en 


cxxviii.  3,)  not  with  clubs  merely,  but 
with  iron  rods,  which  they  have  in  abundance  from  their 

JUh  a  ball  of  ,ron  of  the  si.e  of  a  fist,  slung  to  a  thong, 
dealt  me  so  violent  a  blow  that  I  should  have  fallen 
senseless,  had  not  fear  of  a  second  given  me  strength 

fe"arf,n°rf  ■  .  u,""""^  *'^"  °"  '»"?  -"=«  '""^d  'his 
Wul  ha,l  of  blows,  we   with  difficulty  reached  the 

stage  erected  m  the  centre  of  the  village 

tbf  Tp  ^''"  P'"''"*"^  "  ^''  *"  ^''"'«  compassion, 
that  of  Eene  was  certainly  the  most  pitiable.     Being  by 

no  means  quick  or  active,  he  had  received  so  many 

blows  all  over  his  body,  but  especially  on  his  face,  that 

nothing  could  be  distinguished  there  but  the  white  of 

h.s  eyes;  more  beautiful  truly  as  he  more  resembled 

hmi,  whom  we  have  beheld  "as  a  leper,  and  smitten  by 

btit?::;;.::  H,r ''-'-  -  -  — ^"-  - 

We  had  but  just  time  to  gain  breath  on  this  stage, 
when  one  with  a  huge  club  gave  us  Frenchmen  thfee 
terrible  blows  on  the  bare  back;  the  savages  now  took 
out  their  knives  and  began  to  mount  the  stage  and  cut 
off  the  fingers  o  many  of  the  prisoners  ;  and!  as  a  cap- 
tive  undergoes  their  cruelty  in  proportion  to  his  dignity 

they  began  with  me.  seeino-  by  my  rn^r!„.t  ,, 

,        ,    .  '    -"^"'o.  DJ  mj  conduct,  as  well  as 

by   their   words,  that   I   was  in  authority   among  the 
French   and   Hurons.     Accordingly,  an  old  man  'and 
woman  approached   the  spot  where  I   stood;  he  corn! 
manded  his  companion  to  cut  ofl^  my  thumb ;  she  at  Zt 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


39 


drew  back  but  at  last,  when  ordered  to  do  so  three  or  four 

my  left  thumb  where  it  joins  the  hand.  [She  was  an 
A  gon,u.n  that  is,  one  of  that  nation  which^we.~ 
the  French,  i„  New  France;  she  had  been  captured  a 

Tf  thte  f„       .  "^  "  "  P''""^  '°  ^""^^^  "'  ">«  hands 
of  those  for  whom  you  would  die,  and  for  whom  you 

chose  to  suffer  the  greatest  torment  rather  than  lele 

them  exposed  to  the  cruelty  of  visible  and  invisible  ene- 

I  offS  iftl"fb'"  ""  °*'"  '™'  *^  ^'"P"""^''  "^•""b, 
mind    b.  /''  "^."■""'  '"•'  "^'"8  God,  calling  to 

mmd  the  sacrifice    which  I  had  for  seven  years  con 
stantly  offered  thee  in  thy  Church.     At  last,  CnedT; 
one  of  my  comrades  to  desist,  since  they  might  other! 

Eene  had  his  right  thumb  cut  off  at  the  first  ininf 

r\"t  *^  ^"""^•''y  that  it  was  his  vifl  haC 
tSitb  ~hed  th„,  enabling  me  to  til 
this  letter  to  beg  my  dear  fathers  and  brothers  to  offer 

the  bT  T"l'  "7''^'  ^applications  and  entreaties^ 
the  holy  church  of  God,  to  which  we  know  that  we  a  ! 
now  enftled  by  a  new  claim,  for  she  often  pr'ys  fir  Z 
afflicted  and  the  captive.  ^ 

ySn''l£!''^'V'  ?'  """"■"P''""  "'  '^'^  Blessed 

"gm,  after  spending  the  morning  on  the  st»„    „ 
were  t  ,        ,„,,  ^,_,^^  ^^  ^_^^^  J  ^"^^^e  sta^e,^ 

»...»  distant  irom  the  first.  As  I  was  on  the  point  of 
-arching,  the  Indian  who  had  brought  me,  loth  to  LJ 

8« 


80 


PERILS     OP     THE 


■ 


my  shirt,  sent  me  off  naked,  except  an  old  and  wretched 
pair  of  drawers.      When  I  beheld  myself  thus  stripped, 
"Surely,  brother,"  said  I,  "thou  wilt  not  send  me  off  thus 
naked,    thou   hast    taken    enough  of   our    property   to 
enrich    thee."     This    touched    him,  and   he    gave    me 
enough  of  the  hempen  bagging  in  which  our  packages 
had  been  put  up,  to  cov  r  my  shoulders  and  part  of  my 
body.     But  my  shouldevs,  mangled  by  their  blows  and 
stripes,  could  not  bear  this  rough  and' coarse  cloth.     On 
the  way,  while  scarcely  and  at  last  not  at  all  covered  by 
It,  the  heat  of  the  sun  was  so  intense,  that  my  skin  was 
dried  as   though   in   an  oven,  and  peeled  off  from  my 
back  and  arms. 

As  we  entere'd  the  second  village,  blows  were  not 
spared,  though  this  is  contrary  to  their  usual  custom, 
which  is  to  be  content  with  once  bastinadoing  the  pris- 
oners. The  Almighty  surely  wished  us  to  be  somewhat 
likened  in  this  point  to  his  apostle,  who  glories  that  he 
was  thrice  beaten  with  rods  ;  and  although  they  received 
us  with  fewer  blows  than  the  last,  their^  blows  were  the 
more  cruel,  since,  being  less  embarrassed  by  the  crowd, 
they  were  better  aimed  .;  some  striking  constantly  on  the 
shins  to  our  exquisite  pain. 

^  The  rest  of  the  day  we  spent  on  the  stage,  and  the 
night  in  a  hut  tied  down  half  naked  to  the  bare  ground, 
at  the  mercy  of  all  ages  and  sexes.  For  we  had  been 
handed  over  to  the  sport  of  the  children  and  youth  who 
threw  hot  coals  on  our  naked  bodies,  which,  bound  as  we 
were,  it  was  no  ea.sy  matter  to  throw  off  In  this  manner 
they  make  tlieir  apprenticeship  in  cruelty,  and  from  less, 
grow  accustomed  to  greater.     Wo  snent  there  two  days 


and  nights  with  scarcely  any  food  or  sleep,  in  great 


.ayi 
an- 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


31 


guish  of  mind  as  far  as  I  was  concerned.  For,  from  time 
to  time,  they  mounted  the  stage,  cutting  off  the  fingers 
of  my  Huron  companions,  binding  hard  cords  around 
their  fists  with  such  violence,  that  they  fainted,  and,  while 
each  of  them  suffered  but  his  own  pain,  I  suffered  that 
of  all ;  I  was  afflicted  with  as  intense  grief  as  you  can 
imagine  a  father's  heart  to  feel  at  the  sight  of  his  children's 
misery;  for,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  old  Christians, 
I  had  begotten  them  all  recently  in  Christ  by  baptism. 

Yet  amid  all  this  the  Lord  gave  me  such  strength  that, 
suffering  myself,  I  was    able    to    console    the    suffering 
Hurons  and  French.     So  that,  both  on  the  road  and  on 
the  stage,  when  the   tormenting  crowd  of  "saluters," 
(for  so  they  call  those  who  wreak  their  cruelty  on  the 
•  captives  as  they  arrive,)  had  dropped  away,  I   exhorted 
them,  at  one  time  generally,  at  another   individually,  to 
preserve  their  patience,  nor  lose  confidence  which  would 
have  a  great  reward;  to   remember   "that,    by  many 
tribulations  it  behooves  us    to   enter    the    kingdom  of 
heaven  ;  "  that  the  time  was  come  indeed,  foretold  to  us 
by  God,  when  he  said  :  "  Ye  shall  lament  and  weep,  but 
the  world  shall  rejoice,  but  your  sorrow  shall  be  turned 
into  joy ; "  that  we  were  like  to  a  «  a  woman  in  travail, 
who,  when  she  brings  forth,  hath  sorrow,  because  her 
hour  is  come  ;  but,  when  she  has  brought  forth,  no  lon- 
ger remembers  her  anguish  for  joy  that  a  man  is  born 
into  the  world;"  (John  xvi.  21,-)  so  ohould   they   feel 
assured  that,  in  a  few  days,  these  momentary  pains  would 
give  place  to  never-ending  joys.     And  surely  I  had  rea- 
son  to  rejoice  when  I  beheld  them  so  well  disposed, 
especially  the  older  Christians,  Joseph,*  Eustace,t    and 
•  I"«°de«lioren.  ^  Ahatsistari. 


■ 


9% 


PERILS     OF     THE 


r^ 


the  other  two  ;  for,  on  the  very  day  that  we  reached  the 
first  viUage,  Theodore  had  freed  himself  from  his  bonds  ; 
but,  as  during  the  battle  he  had  had  his  shoulder  blade 
broken  by  the  but-end  of  a  musket,  he  died  on  his  way 
to  the  French. 

Never  till  now  had  the  Indian  scaffold  beheld  French 
or  other  Christians  captives.     So  that,  contrary  to  usual 
custom,  we  were  led  around  through  all  their  villages  to 
gratify  the  general  curiosity.     The  third,  indeed,    we 
entered  scathless,  but  on  the  scaffold  a  scene  met  my 
eyes  more  heart-rending  than  any  torment ;  it  was  a  group 
of  tour  Hurons,  taken  elsewhere  by  some  other  party 
and  dragged  here  to    swell    our    wretched    company! 
Among  other  cruelties  every  one  of  these  had  lost  some 
fingers,  and  the  eldest  of   the    ba«d  his    two  thumbs 
Joining  these,  I  at  once  began  to  instruct  them,  separate- 
ly, on  the  articles  of  faith  ;  then,  on  the  very  stage  itself 
I  baptized  two,  with  rain-drops  gathered  from  the  leaves 
of  a  stalk  of  Indian  corn,  given  us  to  chew  ;    the   other 
two,  I  christened  as  we  were  led  by  a  stream  on  our  way 
to  another  village.     At  this  place,  cold  setting  in  after 
the  ram,  we  suffered  extremely  from  it,  as  we  were  en- 
tirely uncovered.     Often  shivering  with  cold    on    the 
stage,  I  would  without  orders  come  down  and    enter 
some  hut,  but  I  had    scarcely   begun    to   warm    myself 
when  I  was  commanded  to  return  to  the  scaffold. 

William  Couture  had  thus  far  lost  none  of  his  fin- 
gers ;  this,  exciting  the  displeasure  of  an  Indian  in  this 
village  he  sawed  off  the  fore  finger  of  his  right  hand  in 
the  middle  ;  the  pain  was  most  excruciating  as    for  this 

amputation  he  emnlnvp^   Ti/>f  o  i^^uv    u,  .  •     .,  , 

,  .  -      _  -    „        - -i-— ^.-..,  n^,  ^  x^niic,  uuc  m  its  stead  a 

kind  of  shell,  there  very  abundant.     As  it  could  not  cut 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


33 


the  sinews  which  were  hard  and  slippery,  he  wrenched 
the  finger  so  violently,  that,  when  the  sinews  gave  way, 
the  poor  fellow's  arm  swelled  fearfully  up  to  the  very 
elbow.  An  Indian,  touched  by  mercy,  took  him  to  his 
hut  and  kept  him  there  two  days  which  we  spent  in  that 
village  ;  leaving  me  in  ignorance  and  great  anxiety  as  to 
his  fate. 

At  nightfall,  we  were  taken  to  a  hut  where  the  youth 
awaited  us.     They  ordered  us  to  sing  as  other  captives 
are  wont  to  Jo  ;   we  at  last  complied,  for  alas,  what  else 
could  we  do  ?  but  we  sang  the  «  Canticles  of  the  Lord 
in  a  strange  land.  »     Torture  followed  the  chanting,  and 
Its  fury  burst  especially  on  Kene  and  myself,  for  the  good 
savage  still  kept  William  in  his  hut.     Accordingly,  on 
me,  and  especially  on  Rene,  they  threw  hot  ashes  'and 
hve  coals,  burning  him  terribly  in  the  breast. 
^  They  next  hung  me  up  between  two  poles  in  the  hut, 
tied  by  the  arms  above  the  elbow  with  coarse  rope  woven 
of  the  bark  of  trees.     Then  I  thought  I  was  to  be  burnt, 
for  this  is  one  of  their  usual  preliminaries.     And  that  I 
might  know  that,  if  I  had  thus  far  borne  anything  with 
fortitude  or  even  with  patience,    these    came    not   from 
myself,  but  from  Him  who  gives  strength  to  the  weary  • 
now,  as  though  left  to  myself  in  this  torture,  I  groaned 
aloud,  for  -  I  will  glory  in  my  infirmities  that  the  pow- 
er of  Christ  may  dwell  in  me,"  (2  Cor.  xii.  9,)  and  from 
my  intense  pain,  I  begged  my  torturers  to  ease  me  some 
little  from  those  hard,  rough  ropes.     But  God  justly 
ordained  that  the  more  I  pleaded,  the  more  tightly  they 
drew  my  chains.     At  last   when    I   had    been   han^in^ 
tiius  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  they  unloosed  me  as   I 
was  on  the  point  of  fainting.     I  render  thee  thanks,  0 


84 


PERILS     OF     THE 


Lord  Jesus,  that  I  have  been  allowed  to  learn,  by  some 
slight  experience,  how  much  thou  didst  deign  to  suffer 
on  the  cross  for  me,  when  the  whole  weight  of  thy  most 
sacred  body  hung  not  by  ropes,  but  by  thy  hands  and 
feet  pierced  by  hardest  nails  !  Other  chains  followed 
these,  for  we  were  tied  to  the  ground  to  pass  the  rest  of 
the  night.  What  did  they  not  then  do  to  my  poor 
Huron  companions  thus  tied  hand  and  foot  ?  What  did 
they  not  attempt  on  me  ?  But  once  more  I  thank  thee, 
Lord,  that  thou  didst  save  me,  thy  priest,  ever  unsullied 
from  the  Impure  hands  of  the  savages.  When  we  had 
thus  spent  two  days  in  that  village,  we  were  led  back  to 
the  second  which  we  had  entered,  that  our  fate  might 
be  finally  determined. 

We  had  now  been  for  seven  days  led  from  village  to 
village,  from  scaffold  to  scaffold,  become  a  spectacle  to 
God  and  to  his  angels,  as  we  may  hope  from  his  divine 
goodness  ;  a  scoff  and  jeer  to  the  vilest  savages,  when 
we  were  at  last  told  that  that  day  should  end  our  lives 
amid  the  flames.  Though,  in  sooth,  this  last  act  was  not 
without  its  horrors,  yet  the  good  pleasure  of  God  and 
the  hope  of  a  better  life  subject  to  no  sin  rendered  it 
more  one  of  joy.  Then,  addressing  my  French  and 
Huron  companions  as  it  were  for  the  last  time,  I  bid 
them  be  of  good  heart,  amid  their  mental  and  bodily 
sufferings  to  think  "diligently  upon  him  that  had 
endured  such  opposition  of  sinners  against  himself  not 
to  be  weary,  fainting  in  their  minds,"  (  Heb.  xii.  3,  ) 
but  to  ho])e  that  the  morrow  would  unite  us  to  our  God 
to  reign  forever. 

Fearing  lest  v/c  might  be  torn  from  one  another,  I 
especially  advised  Eustace  to  look  towards  me  when  we 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


35 


could  not  be  together,  and  by  placing  his  hands  on  his 
breast  and  raising  his  eyes  to  he.ven  to  show  his  contri- 
tion  for  h,8  sins,  so  that  I  could  absolve  him,  as  I  hud 
already  frequently  done  after  hearing  his  confession  on 
the  way,  and  after  our  arrival.  As  advised,  he  several 
times  made  the  signal. 

l^ie     sachems,    however,    on    further  'deliberation, 
resolved,  that  no  precipitate  step  was  to  be  taken  with 
regard  to  the  French,  and,  when  they  had  summoned  us 
before  the  council,  they  declared  that  our  lives  were 
spared.     To  almost  all  the  Hurons  likewise  they  granted 
their  lives  :  three  were  excepted,  Paul,  Eustace  and  Ste- 
phen, who  were  put  to  death  in  the  three  villages  which 
make  up  the  tribe ;  Stephen  in  the  village  where   we 
were,  known  as  Andagoron,  Paul  in  Ossernenon,  and 
Eustace    in    Teonontogen.      The    last    was    burned   in 
almost  every  part  of  his  body  and  then  beheaded  •  he 
bore  all  most   piously,  and  while  it  is  usual  for  dyine 
captives  to  cry  out : 

"  Exoriatur  nostria  ex  ossibus  ultor," 
"  May  an  avenger  arise  from  our  ashes," 

he,  on  the  contrary,  in  the  Christian  spirit  which  he  had 
so  deeply  imbibed  in  baptism,  implored  his  countrymen 
standing  around,  not  to  let  any  feeling  for  his  fate  pre- 
vent the  concluding  of  a  peace  with  the  Iroquois.  Paul 
Ononhoratoon,  who,  after  going  through  the  usual  fiery 
mdeal  was  tomahawked  in  the  village  of  0«sernenon, 
was  a  young  man  of  about  twenty-five,  full  of  life  and 
courage ;  for  such  they  generally  put  to  death,  to  san  a« 
It  were  the  life-blood  of  the  hostile  tribe.  With  a 
noble  contempt  of  death  arising,  as  he  openly  professed 


36 


PERILS     OF     THE 


: 


on  the  way,  from  his  hope  of  a  better  life,  this  generous 
man  had  repeatedly,  when  the  Iroquois  came  up  to  me 
to  tear  out  my  nails,  or  inflict  some  other  injury,  offered 
himself  to  them,  begging  them  to  leave  me  and  turn 
their  rage  on  him.  May  the  Lord  return  him  a  hun- 
dred fold  with  usury  for  that  heroic  charity,  which  led 
him  to  give  -his  life  for  his  friends,  and  for  those  who 
had  begotten  him  in  Christ  in  bondage ! 

Towards  evening  of  that  day  they  carried  off  Wil- 
liam Couture,  whom  they  regarded  as  a  young  man  of 
unparalleled  courage,  to  Teonontogen,  the  farthest  vil- 
lage of  their  territory,  and  gave  him  to  an  Indian  fam- 
ily. It  is  the  custom  of  these  savages,  when  they  spare 
a  prisoner's  life,  to  adopt  him  into  some  family  to  supply 
the  place  of  a  deceased  member,  to  whose  rights  he  in 
a  manner  succeeds ;  he  is  subject  thenceforward  to  no 
man's  orders  except  those  of  the  head  of  that  family, 
who,  to  acquire  this  right,  offers  some  presents.  But 
seeing  that  Rene  and  I  were  less  vigorous,  they  led  us 
to  the  first  village,  the  residence  of  the  party  that  had 
captured  us,  and  left  us  there  till  some  new  resolution 
should  be  taken. 

After  so  many  a  long  day  spent  fasting,  after  so  many 
sleepless  nights,  after  so  many  wounds  and  stripes,  and 
especially  after  such  heart-rending  anguish  of  mind, 
when  at  last  time  was,  so  to  speak,  given  us  to  feel  our 
sufferings,  we  sank  into  a  state  of  helplessness,  scarce  able 
to  walk,  or  even  stand  erect :  neither  night  nor  day  brought 
a  moment  of  repose ;  this  resulted  from  many  causes, 
but  chiefly  from  our  still  untended  wounds ;  this  state 

was    rfinflfired   mnTP  trvincr  Kv  fV»»    TYivvinrlc   nf  li^o    -A^q^ 

and  bedbugs,  of  which  the  maimed  and  mutilated  state 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  S7 

Of  our  fingers  did  not  permit  us  to  clear  ou^  person, 
iJesides  this,   we    sufferpd    frnr«    k  p^'=»""8. 

herefh.n^l       u  ,  Plunger;    more  truly 

nere  than  elsewhere  is  the  saying, 

"  Cibua  non  utilia  tcgro." 
"Food  is  hurtful  to  the  alok." 

fwhkh'- 1*  ""'""^  '°  "''''  '"  "'"'^  A"--""  corn, 
bet,,  eon   two   stones,   but   unripe   squashes,   we   were 
bought  to  the  brink  of  the  grave  ;  and  Ren^   esneciX 
whose  stomach  refused  this  food,  and  who    fr'om   hS 
many  wounds,  had  almost  lost  his  sight. 

UP  in't'hf  "n    ""'  """^  "'  '''"  "^^^  ''y  ^«y.  hunted 
up    "the  village  some  small  fishes  and  some  bits  of 

meat  dned  by  the  fire  and  sun,  and,  pounding  thesf 
mixed  them  with  our  sagamity.  ^  ' 

After  three  weeks,  we  wore  just  recovering  from  our 
•linens  when  they  sought  to  put  us  to  death. 

Ihe  two  hundred  Indians  who  had  maltreated  us  so 

whereVel'       T"'  "'"  ""'^  ^"'^^''  '"  ">«  P"" 
where  the  River  Iroquois,  so  called  from  them,  emoties 

mto  the  great  river  St.  Lawrence  ;   here   seei2  !.  T 
of  the^  French  engaged  in  laying  the^TnZinr  ff 
Fort  Richelieu,'    they  thought  they   could  easily  kil 
some  and  carry  off  the  rest  as  prisoners.      Ace  rdTng.y 
to  the  number  of  two  hundred,  in  a  single  column  and 
almost   all   armed   with   muskets,  they   rushed    aW^ 
unexpected  upon  the  whites  eng'aged' iHt   ^1' 

aaa  wiiioa  soon  disappeared.  "  ^^  ""^''^  '"^^^^  VJuebeo, 


38 


PERILS     OF     THE 


works.  At  the  first  onset  of  the  foe,  the  French,  though 
but  a  handful  compared  to  the  number  of  the  savages, 
flew  to  arms,  and  so  bravely  and  successfully  repulsed 
then-  fierce  assailants,  that,  after  killing  two,  and  wound- 
ing many  more,  they  put  the  rest  to  flight.  The  war 
party  returned  fu-ious,  and,  as  though  they  had  been 
greatly  wronged  who  had  gone  forth  to  do  wrong, 
demanded  the  death  of  those  of  us  who  were  yet  alive. 
They  asserted  it  to  be  a  shame  that  three  Frenchmen 
should  live  quietly  among  them  when  they  had  so  lately 
slain  three  Iroquois.  By  these  complaints,  Eene's 
safety,  especially,  and  my  own,  were  in  great  jeopardy. 
He  alone,  who,  as  he  gave,  protecteth  life,  warded  off 
the  blow. 

On  the  eve  of  the  Nativity  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  one 
of  the  principal  Hollanders,  who  have  a  settlement  not 
more  than  twenty  leagues  *  from  these  Indians,  came 
with  two  others,t  to  endeavor  to  eftect  our  liberation. 
He  remained  there  several  days,  offered  much,  promised 
more,  obtained  nothing.  But,  as  they  are  a  wily  and 
cunning  race  of  savages,  in  order  not  to  appear  to  refuse 
all  that  a  friend  asked,  but  to  concede  something  to  his 
desires,  they  lyingly  asserted  that  they  would,  in  a  few 
days,  restore  us  to  our  countrymen.  This  was,  perhaps, 
the  wish  of  some  of  them,  but,  in  the  latter  part  of  Sep- 
tember ;  (for  constant  rain  had  put  the  matter  off  till 
that  time,)  a  final  council  was  held  on  our  fate,  although 

♦  We  leave  this,  although  we  cannot  r-iooncile  it  with  distances  elsewhere 
given. 

t  These  were  Arends  Van  Curler,  Jacob  Jansen,  and  John  Labadie.  Van 
Curler,  the  Corlear  of  history,  then  commanding  the  post,  generously  offered 
260  piastres  as  a  ransom  for  the  French. 


M 


■ 


OCEAN     AND     WILDEK.VE33.  89 

provisions  had    been    Dreoarefl    •,„,! 

take  us  back      H.     .,  ^^^^'^'^   """^  ""^n  appointed  to 

aF.enchn.a„tobett  ASa  :TT,''  "^^^^  ^"«'^' 
up  in  alarm,  and  each  Lif  ;f  fl  .  """""^  '""'^^ 
even  those  .ho  ca^t'Cl;  /X/" hT 

-und  the  i:;-  to  tT;rdt:;je^rr  ^^•'^''' 

towards  the  close  of  the  council  TT  •  '"™™"' 
with  some  thought  ti  inZcei  ."e  tl  d  '""'"'  "^ 
panions  together  without  the  v^l^e  ^  ffieldTT'"" 

«^:ned  in  the  village,  was  sonrewhat     1^^  '  ''^'  ^'^ 

-r™n-t;t:dt;e^^^^^^^^^ 

Here    rpmnfo  ^  linage,   in  order   to  prav 

xxere,  J  emote  from  evpw  xtriVn^^^        i  ^  t'^^'-y' 

intrusion,  we  resilJll  '  ""''  ^'°"'  ""  "^S^'""^ 

H^Ho„  ;iii:rorror£i\:ix;t" '» 
a3o?Thettrthr"-^-"^^^^^^^ 

w.oo„.n,ande;r^tl.^r:Zn"- 
brother,"   said   I,  «we  know   .nf      i,     ^  -^^^'" 

nien.      Let  us  commend  ourselves  earnestlv   f.   r  T 
and  to  the  mo«f-   Pi^     ^  ^r-     •         earnestly   to   God, 
W.  .=d  ITl  ^''"1  ^'^S.n,  our  good  Mother." 
...vKd  tne  vuiage  in  prayer,  when,  at  it. 


40 


PERILS     OF     THE 


Hf 


very  entrance,  one  of  the  two  whom  we  had  met,  pluck- 
ing forth  his  tomahawk  which  was  concealed  in  his 
dress,  dealt  Rene  so  deadly  a  blow  on  the  head,  that 
he  fell  lifeless,  invoking  the  most  holy  name  of  Jesus 
as  he  fell.  We  had  happily,  mindful  of  the  indul- 
gence thereby  gained,  often  reminded  each  other  to 
close  our  life  by  uttering,  with  our  dying  voice,  that 
most  holy  name. 

At  the  sight  of  the  reeking  hatchet,  I  knelt  down 
on  the  spot,  an'd,  uncovering  my  head,  awaited  a  like 
blow.  But,  when  I  had  been  there  a  moment  or  two, 
they  bade  me  rise,  as  they  had  no  right  to  kill  me,  for  I 
was  the  slave  of  another  family.  Rising  then  in  haste, 
I  ran  to  my  still  breathing  companion,  and  conferred 
absolution,  which  I  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  him 
after  his  confession  every  other  day ;  then  two  other 
blows,  dealt  before  my  very  face,  added  him  to  the 
number  of  the  blessed.  He  was  thirty-five  years  of 
age,  eminent  for  his  simplicity  of  manners,  his  inno- 
cence of  life,  his  patience  in  adversity,  entii'ely  sub- 
missive to  God,  whom  he,  in  all  things,  regarded  as 
present  before  his  eyes,  and  resigned  to  his  most  holy 
will  in  love.  Most  worthy  is  he.  Reverend  Father, 
to  be  counted  among  thy  children,  not  only  because 
he  had  spent  several  months  in  one  of  the  novitiates 
of  the  Society,  in  a  most  edifying  manner,  and  had 
afterwards,  by  the  command  of  Superiors,  to  whom  he 
gave  the  entire  disposal  of  his  life,  proceeded  to  Huro- 
nia,  to  aid  the  Christian  population  by  his  medical 
knowledge,  but  especially  does  he  merit  it  from  the  fact, 
that,  a  few  days  before  his  death,  impelled  by  a  desire 
of  uniting  himself  more  closely  to  God.  he  pronounced 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


41 


'it 


the  usual  vows  of  the  Society  to  subject  himself  to  it 
as  far  as  in  him  lay.     And  certain  it  is  that,  in  life  as 
in  death  where  his  last  word  was  the  most  holy  name 
of  Jesus,  he  had  proved  himself  no  unworthy  son  of  the 
Society      Nay,  I  not   only  love  liim  as  a  brother,  but 
revere  him  as  a  martyr-martyr  to   obedience,  and   stUl 
more,  a  martyr  to  the  faith  and  to  the  cross.     As  he  was 
very  pious,  and  accustomed  to  be  with  the  Christians 
or  such  as  were  most  intimate  with  our  Christians,  he 
daily  spent  a  long  time   in  prayer,  to  the  wonder  and 
even  suspicion  of  the  savages,   so  novel  did  it  seem  to 
them,     ihese  suspicions  were  confirmed  in  their  minds 
when  one  day,  taking  off  the  cap  of  a  cHld  in  the  hut 
where  he  lived,  he  made  him  make  a  sign  of  the  cross 
on   his  b.east    and  forehead;  for   a    superstitious   old 
Indian,  the  grandfather  of  the  boy,  seeing  this,  ordered 
hiin  to  be  killed.     This  I  afterwards  learned  from  the 
boys  mother,  who  told  me  that  he  had  been  kiUed 
by  the  old  man  for  that  reason. 

But  to  resume  my  narrative  :  after  I  had  been  seated 
a  httle  while  m  our  hut,  where  my  life  had  been  pretty 
qmet,  I  was  taken  to  another,  the  hut  of  him  who  had 
cut  off  my  thumb,  a  most  bitter  enemy  of  the  Algon- 
qmns,  and  consequently  of  the  French.  Here  not  I 
alone,  but  the  other  Iroquois,  every  moment  expected 
to  see  me  tomahawked.  Accordingly,  some  who  had 
given  me  articles  of  clothing,  that  I  might,  in  part  at 
least,  cover  my  person,  now  asked  them  back,  for  fear 
of  losing  them  by  my  death. 

The  next  day,  I  was  filled  with  the  greatest  anxiety 
to  know  what  had  become  of  mv  dear  rnmr^an^'^-  ^h- 
I  resolved  to  look  for  his  body  at  all  hazards,  and  com- 


42 


PERILS     OF     THE 


mit  it,  if  possible,  to  the  earth.  After  stripping  it 
entirely,  they  had  contemptuously  tied  a  rope  around 
the  neck,  and  dragging  it  through  the  village,  had  flung 
it  into  a  ravine  at  a  considerable  distance.  As  I  was 
going  out  of  the  village,  I  met  the  old  man  in  whose 
hut  I  had  formerly  been  ;  he  advised  me  to  stay  at 
home.  "  Whither  art  thou  hurrying  ?"  he  exclaimed, 
"  thou  art  scarce  alive  ;  they  seek  thee  everywhere  to 
slay  thee,  and  yet  thou  goest  to  find  an  already  putrefy- 
ing corpse  ;  dost  thou  not  see  those  fierce  young  braves, 
who  are  about  to  kill  thee  ?  '*  Some,  in  fact,  went  out 
of  the  village  armed,  just  before  me  ;  but  I  fearlessly 
pursued  my  way ;  for,  in  my  bitter  anguish,  it  was  a 
pain  to  live,  a  gain  to  die  in  such  a  work  of  charity. 
When  the  old  man  saw  me  so  resolute,  he  asked  an- 
other Indian  to  go  with  me.  By  his  assistance,  I  found 
the  body,  which  the  dogs  had  begun  to  gnaw  about  the 
hips,  and,  sinking  it  in  the  deepest  part  of  the  torrent, 
covered  it  with  a  heap  of  stones,  intending  to  return 
the  next  day  with  a  spade,  and  bury  it  secretly  and 
alone,  for  I  was  afraid  they  would  disinter  it. 

As  I  re-entered  our  hut,  two  young  men  were  waiting 
to  take  me  to  their  village  to  put  me  to  death.  Aware 
of  their  design,  I  told  them  that  I  was  in  the  hands  of 
those  with  whom  I  lived,  that  if  they  gave  the  slightest 
consent,  I  would  accompany  them,  and  would  in  fact 
have  done  so.  Seeing  that  they  gained  nothing  in  this 
way,  the  next  day  one  of  them  who,  at  the  time  of  our 
capture,  had  been  wounded  with  his  brother,  seeing  me 
in  the  field  whither  I  had  gone  to  execute  &ome  order 
of  my  owners,  seized  a  hatchet  and  was  rushing  on  me 
tA-  &i*i  ^ujj  TTAiciA  iio  wua  iiiiuppoa  dj  sax  oiu  man  oi  our 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  43 

xSidthiTr"?  '"""  -"^^^P^^-g  1-  design. 
ude  on  h.m  know.ng  that  he  hath  cure  of  n,e,  and  that 
I  should  not  fear  the  face  of  a  man  when  the  ihni.Mty 
^>as  the  protector  of  my  life,  without  whose  permialn 
not  a  hair  could  fall  from  my  head. 

As  I  could  not  that  day  accomplish  my  design,  early 
the  next  morning  I  proceeded  to  the  spot  with  a  smi 

my  brother.     I  returned  to  the  spot;  I  descended  the 

all  m  vain.     The  torrent  ran  swollen  by  the  ni^ht  rains 
but,  uniestrained  by  either  its  depth  or' the  co  d    T  t' 
was  the  first  of  October,  I  tried  the  bottom  w  th  my 
stick  and  feet,  as  I  thought  that  the  stream  might  ha"e 

whether  they  knew  anything  of  him  ;  but  as  they  a"e  a    " 
most  lymg  race,  and  always  give  an  affirmative  answef 
wi  hout  reg.ard  to  truth,  they  falsely  told  me  that  he  had 
been  dragged  to  a  quite  distant  river.*     Wliat  ..roans  did 
I  not  utter  then !    What  teai-s  did  I  not  she  ."  Ig,  Ig 

to   hee,  my  God,  the  psalms  thy  holy  Church  employ! 
in  the  service  of  the  dead !  ' 

When,  however,  the  snows  had  melted  away,  I  heard 
from  the  you^  men  that  they  had  seen  the  scattered 
bones  of  the  Frenchman.  Hurrying  to  the  spot,  I  gat  ' 
ered  „p  the  half-gnawed  bones,  the  remnants  left  b^  the 

.  1™'  '"«"«""'W«n«J'  «..  Mohawk,  ..d  th.  l„„„  And,.„r™  >.,  „.., 
.=..,:..  „„.,.g  ,„u,  i.    A„d.gor„a  or  Oa„dag„ro„,  w«,  .f..;.„d;calU4 


1m  B  '"""  '<"     ^uungoron  or  ( 

I  Gandawague,  now  written  Caughnawaga. 


44 


PERILS      OF      THE 


dogs,  the  foxes  and  the  crows,  and  especially  the  skull 
Iractured  in  many  places  ;  these  reverently  kissing,  I 
committed  to  the  earth,  that  I  might,  one  day,  if  such 
were  God's  will,  bear  with  me  as  a  great  treasure  to  a 
consecrated  Christian  land. 

From  many  other  dangers,  which  I  knew  and  I  new 
not,  did  the  Lord  rescue  me,  in  spite  of  all  the  ill  will 
and  hate  of  the  Iroquois,  unwilling  and  furious  as  the 
Iroquois  were.  But  the  following  I  should  not  omit. 
There  was  in  our  cabin  an  idiot  who  asked  me  to  let  him 
cut  off  two  hands'  breadth  from  a  wretched  bit  of  cloth 
not  seven  palms  long,  yet  all  that  I  had  to  cover  me. 
Brother !  said  I,  you  see  me  shivering  every  night  under 
this  short  thin  covering;  'yet  do  as  thou  wilt.  My 
modest  excuse  offended  him,  and  when  soon  after  I  went 
to  the  huts  of  the  baptized  Hurons,  whom  I  daily 
instucted  and  bore  again  till  Christ  should  be  formed  in 
them,  (Gal.  iv.  19,)  he  came  in  search  of  me,  and  fiercely 
bade  me  return.  When  1  had  entered  our  cabin,  Rene's 
murderer  was  sent  for,  that  the  same  hand  might  end 
both  our  lives  ;  they  looked  for  him  in  vain,  he  could 
not  be  found.  I  was  accordingly  sent  the  next  day  into 
a  field  of  my  master's  with  two  women,  under  the  pretext 
of  bringing  back  some  article  or  other,  but  in  fact  to 
expose  me  to  death ;  for,  two  days  before,  the  only  son 
of  one  of  their  noble  women  had  died  in  our  cabin,  and 
I  was  to  be  sacrificed  to  his  manes. 

These  women  had  with  them  the  squashes,  corn  and 
other  articles  of  the  kind  which  were  to  be  the  fee  of  my 
executioner.  "  But  I,  Hke  a  deaf  man,  heard  not "  the 
vain  things  they  devised,  «  and  like  a  dumb  man  opened 
not  my  mouth,  and  I  became  like  a  man  that  heareth  not. 


4 


OCEA.N     AND     WILDERNESS. 


46 


nor   hath    a   reply   in   his   mouth, »    (Ps.  xxxvii.  14,) 
*'  because  in  thee,  O  Lord,  have  I  hoped  ;  "  but,  mindful 
of  his  meekness  "  who  was  led  like  a  lamb  to  the  slaugh- 
ter, "  (Acts  viii.  32,)  I  went  to  my  death,    begging   the 
Lord  with  David   "  to  turn  away  evil  from  my  enemies 
and  scatter  them  in    his    truth."— Ps.  liii.    7.     About 
midway  we   met  the  looked-for  murderer  ;  seeing  him 
coming  at  a  distance,  I  commended  myself  for  the   last 
time  to  God,  begging  him  to  receive  my  life  spent  with 
care  and  anguish  ;  but  my  sins  still  rendered  me  unwor- 
thy.    He  passed  quietly  by  us,  and  meeting  his  mother, 
she  addressed  some  words,  of  what  import  I  know  not, 
to  those  who  conducted  me  ;  on  this,  trembling  and  flee- 
ing as  it  were,  they  left  me  in  the  road,   for  they  saw 
that  I  was  aware  of  their  design. 

Amid  this  frequent  fear  and  death,  while  every  day  1 
die,  or  rather  drag  on  a  life  more  bitter  than  any  death, 
two  months  gUded  away.     During  this  time  I  made  no' 
effort  to  learn  their  language,  for   why  should  I,  who 
every  moment  expected  to  die  ?    The  village  was  a  prison 
for  me.    I  avoided  being  seen.     I  loved  the  wild  wood, 
where  I  begged  the  Lord  not  to  disdain  to  speak  to  his 
servant,  to  give  me  strength  in  such  fearful  trials,  in 
which,  indeed,  if  I  have  become  a  prodigy  to  many,  God 
was  my  stout  Helper,  and  often  by  his  unfailing  goodness 
roused  my  drooping  spirits.     I  had  recourse  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures,    my  only  refuge  in  the  tribulations,  which 
had  found  me  exceedingly  :  these  did  I  venerate ;  with 
these  I  wished  to  die.     Of  all  the  books  which  we  were 
carrying  to  Huronia  for  the  use  of  the  Frenchmen  living 
there,  none  had  fallen  into  m_y  hands  but  the  Epistle  of 
St.  Paul  to  the  Hebrews,  with  the  paraphrase  of  the  Rt. 


I 


46 


PERILS     OP     THE 


m 


Rev.  Anthony  Godeau,  Bishop  of  Gratz.  This  little 
book,  with  a  picture  of  St.  Bruno,  the  illustrious  founder 
of  the  Carthusian  Order,  to  which  some  indulgences  were 
attached,  and  a  rude  wooden  cross  which  I  had  made,  I 
always  carried  about  me,  so  that,  whenever  death,  which 
I  had  ever  present  before  my  eyes,  should  strike  me 
down,  I  could  most  cheerfully  die  with  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures which  had  ever  been  my  greatest  consolation;  with 
the  graces  and  indulgences  of  my  most  holy  Mother  the 
Church,  whom  I  had  always  greatly,  but  now  most  ten- 
derly, loved,  and  with  the  cross  of  my  Lord  and  Savior. 
And  now  the  middle  of  October  was  come  when  the 
Indians  leave  their  villages  to  go  and  hunt  deer,  which 
they  take  by  traps,  or  kill  with  their  guns,  in  the  use  of 
which  they  are  very  skilful.  This  season,  to  the  Indians 
one  of  relaxation  and  enjoyment,  brought  its  new  burden 
of  sorrows  for  me  ;  for  I  was  given  to  a  party,  who  were 
first  amazed  at  me,  then  ridiculed,  and  at  last  began  to 
hate  me. 

Mindful  of  the  character  imposed  upon  me  by  God, 
I  began  with  modesty  to  discourse  with  them  of  the 
adoration  of  one  only  God,  of  the  observance  of  his  com- 
mandments, of  heaven,  hell,  and  the  other  mysteries  of 
our  Faith,  as  fully  as  I  was  able.  At  first,  indeed,  they 
listened,  but  when  they  saw  me  constantly  recur  to  these 
things,  and  especially  when  the  chase  did  not  meet  with 
the  desired  success,  then  they  declared  that  I  was  an 
Otkon,*  who  caused  them  to  take  so  little  game.  But 
what  turned  their  ill  -will  into  perfect  rage  and  fury,  so 
to  speak,  was  this :  It  is  a  custom  with  all  these  nations 
to  have  recourse,  in  their  hunting,  fishing,  war,  sickness, 

*  DemoQt 


I 


OCEAN      AND     WHDERNESS.  47 

and  the  like  to  a  certain  demon  whom  they  call  Aireskoi 
Whoever  desires  his  fishing,  hunting,  of  otheT "fpe-' 
dmonsto  be  successful,  takes  meat,°and  other  „nhe 

or  vnir?^"":'''  'f  ''^o-  "^«  "'"est  of  the  iL  se 
or  V  llage  to  Wm  them  for  him.  if  I  „ay  use  the  term  • 

tKeonethathil™^;--:^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

meat  to  thee,  and  from  .t  we  prepare  thee  a  banquet 
that  thou  mayest  eat  thereof,  and  show  us  where  the 
deer  are  lurk  ns;,  mavest  lead  ft,..^   •  . 
rtf  „„»  J     •        I  ""jest  lead  them  mto  our  traps;  "_ 
(If  no   dunng  the  chase)-"  that  by  thee  we  may  aeain 
behold    the    spring     t-isto  tl,„  l  ^  ^   " 

•       ,  '     ,S'    '"''fe  the  new  harvest,  and  affain 
engage  m   the  chase  in  the  fall ;  "_«£  ;  '  ;„     T 
"  thaf  Kw  »!,=.  '^     '"   lUness) — 

that  by  these  we  may  recover  health  " 

The  veiy  first  time  I  heard  a  formula  couched  in  such 
words,  I  ^aa  filled  with  a  deep  detestation  of  tUs  sav 
age   superstition,  and  firmly  resolved  to  abstain  wl 
from  meats  thus  offered.     They  interpreted  this  abst 
nence  on  my  part,  and  this  contempt  of  their  demon 
the  cause  of  their  taking  so  little  game     «.  the " U 
have  hated  me  without  cause.'Wohn   xv  25      t 
under  the  influence   of  this  hate,  they  woulf  neitf  ' 
.stento  my  instructions,  nor  hei;  mitoaciuirel 
language,  in  which  I  refuted  their  files   T        ,   ^™ 
devote  my  time  entirely  to  spirit::i  ^^^t:!^ 

tnis  Jiabylon,  that  is,  our  hut  where  constant  w.v  v.- 


48 


PERILS     OF     THE 


Stripping  off  the  bark,  and,  at  its  foot,  I  spent  the  whole 
day  with  my  God,  whom,  ahnost  alone  in  those  vast 
regions,  I  worshipped  and  loved  ;  sometimes  in  medi- 
tation or  in  prayer,  at  other  times  reading  an  **  Imita- 
tion of  Christ,"  which  I  had  just  before  recovered.  This 
for  some  time  was  unperceived  ;  but,  on  one  occasion, 
finding  me,  as  was  my  wont,  in  prayer  before  my  cross, 
they  attacked  me  most  violently,  saying  that  they  hated 
the  cross  ;  that  it  was  a  sign  that  they  and  their  friends 
the  neighbors,  (Europeans,)  knew  not,  alluding  to  the 
Dutch  Protestants. 

Upon  this,  I  changed  my  conduct,  and  whereas  I  had 
before  carefully  avoided  praying  or  kneeling  in  their 
hut,  that  I  might  not  give  them  the  slightest  reason  to 
complain,  (for  we  should,  especially  among  savages, 
but  little  accustomed  to  such  things,  act  in  all  prudence,) 
I  now  conceived  that  I  should  no  longer  refrain  from 
those  pious  exercises  which  make  up  a  spiritual  life,  a 
life  I  far  preferred  to  my  temporal  one.  This  I  be- 
lieved would  be  serviceable  to  them  when  the  moment 
of  their  conversion  should  come,  "  which  the  Father 
hath  put  in  his  own  power." — Acts  i.  7. 

"While  thus  an  object  of  their  enmity,  I  certainly  suf- 
fered much  from  hunger  and  cold,  the  contempt  of  the 
lowest  of  the  men,  the  bitter  hatred  of  their  women. 

The  latter,  who  are  the  greatest  gainers  by  the  hunt- 
ing season,  regarded  me  as  the  cause  of  their  want  and 
poverty.  1  suffered  most  from  hunger ;  for,  as  almost 
all  the  venison  on  which  they  chiefly  lived  had  been 
oflTered  to  the  devil  in  these  oblations,  I  spent  many  days 
fasting  ;  and,  almost  every  night,  when  I  came  in  fast- 
ing, I  would  see  our  Egyptians  sitting  over  their  ixcsh- 


A.. 


f 


i 


OCEAW     AWD     WILDERNESS. 


49 


pots,  which  my  severe,  though  self-imposed   law,  pre- 
vented my  touching.     And,  although  reasons  occurred 
to  me,  at  times  dissuading  me  from  this  course,  yet,  by 
God's  grace,  I  never  suffered  myself  to  break  my  reso- 
lution,  but  in  hunger  said   to  my  God:  "  We  shall  be 
filled  with  the  good  things  of  thy  house."— Psalms  Lxiv. 
5.     "  I  shall  be  satisfied  when   thy  glory  shall  appear." 
—lb.  xvi.  15.     «  When  thou  wilt  truly  fill  the  desire 
of  thy    hungry  servants   in   thy  holy  city,  Jerusalem, 
which    thou    wilt   fill   forever  with   the  fat   of  corn." 
— lb.  cxlvii.  14. 

I   suffered   also   greatly   from   cold,  amid  the  deep 
snows   under  my  scanty,  worn-out  cloak,  especially  at 
night,  when  ordered   to  sleep  uncovered  on   the   bare 
ground  on   some   rough   bark ;  for,    though   they  had 
i^lenty  of  deerskins,  perfectly  useless  to  them,  not  one 
was  given  to  me  ;  nay,  when  sometimes  on  a  very  bit- 
ter night,  I  would,  overcome  by  the   cold,  secretly  take 
one,  they  rose  at  once  and  pulled  it  from  me  ;  so  great 
was   their   enmity  against  me.     My  skin  was  now  in 
such  a  state  that  I  could  with  David  say  :  «  It  had  with- 
ered with  the  filth  of  dust."— Job  vii.  5.  .  It  burst  with 
cold,  and  gave  me  great  pain  all  over  my  body.     But 
when  inward  afflictions  came  crowding  on  these  outward 
cares,  then   indeed   my  grief  became   intolerable.      I 
remembered  that  I  had  been  recently  covered  with  the 
life's  blood  of  my  dearest  companion  :  and  those  who 
name  from  William's  village  told  me  he  had  already 
been  put  to  death  with  exquisite  tortures,  and  that  I 
myself,  on  my  return,  was  to  meet  the  same  fate.    With 
this  came  up  the   remembrance  of  my  past  life,  stained 
with  so  many  sins,  and  so  unfaithful  to  God,  and  I 


60 


PERILS     OF     THE 


grieved  that  I  was  thus  to  be  torn  away  unaided  by  any 
of  the  sacraments  in  the  very  midst  of  my  course,  re- 
jected as  it  were  by  God,  with  no  good  works  sent  on 
to  plead  my  cause.  In  this  state,  loathing  life,  yet 
shrinking  from  death,  I  uttered  many  a  mournful  cr>', 
and  said  unto  my  God  :  »  When  shall  sorrows  and  mis' 
eries  have  an  end  ?  How  long  wilt  thou  forget  our 
want  and  our  tribulation  ?  When,  after  this  tempest, 
wilt  thou  give  us  calm,  and,  after  weeping,  joy  and 
exultation  ?  And,  had  not  those  days  been  shortened, 
my  flesh  had  not  been  saved." — Mark  xiii.  20. 

I  had  recourse  to  my  wonted  refuge  of  the  Scriptures, 
my  usual  retreat,  and  passages  which  my  memory  had 
retained  taught  me  how  I  should  think  of  God  in  good- 
ness, even   though   not   upheld  by   sensible    devotion; 
that  I  should  know  that  the  just  man  lives  by  faith! 
I  searched  them  ;  I  followed  their  stream,  and  sought* 
as  it  were,  to  quench  my  daily  thirst.     "  1  meditated 
on  the  law  of   God  night    and    day."— Psalms  i.  8  ; 
and,  « had  not    the  law  of   God  been  my  meditation', 
I  had    then,    perhaps,  perished    in    my  abjection."— 
Psalms  cviii.  92.     «  And  my  soul  had  passed  through 
a    water   unsupportable."— Psalms    cxxih.    5.     "But, 
blessed  be  God,  who    did  not  give  us  a  prey  to  the 
teeth  of  our  enemies."— Psalms   cxxii.  6.       "Whose 
hour  had  come  and  the    power  of   darkness."— Luke 
xxii.  53.     In  which  we  "were  overmuch  oppressed." 
—2  Cor.  i.  8.     So  that  I  was  weary  of  life,  and  could 
say  with    Job,  though  in  a    different  meaning,  "Al- 
though he  should    kill  me,  I  will  trust    in  him."— 
Job.  xiii.  15. 

XhuS  DaSSed    tWn  mnnfTna  axxraxr  in  <-V»ir.  ««4.~ i.     1 


**«- 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS, 


51 


like  St.  Bernard,  the  disciple  of  the  trees  of  the  for- 
est, I  thought  of  naught  but    God,  uaul    become  an 
object  too  hateful  to   ail  to  be   any  longer  borne  with, 
I  was  sent  back  to  the  village  before  the  usual  time! 
During  the  way,  which  took  us  eight  days,  "  I  was 
become  like  a  beast  of  burden  before  God,"  (Psalms 
Ixxii.  23,)  under  the  heavy  load  of  venison  which  I 
carried  j    and,  being  ignorant    what   fate    might  await 
me  at  the  village,  endeavored  to  be  ever  united  with  him, 
for  a  party  that    had    gone    before  had    spread   many 
reports  about  me.     My  sufferings  in  this  journey,  from 
the  intense  cold,  were  extreme ;  for  I  was  nearly  naked, 
and  we  generally  passed  the  night  in  the  open  air. 

My  unhealed  fingers  were   another  source  of    mis- 
ery ;  for  the  wounds  were  hardly  closed  by  the  mid- 
dle of  January.     In  the  village,  however,  a  thin  skin 
was  added  to  my  worn  out  cloak ;    in    Jiis  wretched 
guise  I  traversed  the    streets  of  our  village,  begging 
that  the  Lord  would  one  day  join  me  with  his  sai-.'s 
who  formerly  served    him  in    "  sheepskins  and   goat- 
skins,  distressed,  afflicted,  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
worthy.'  -  -Hebrews  xi.  37.     And  I  daily  saw  the  In- 
dians well  dressed    in  the  cloth  and    garments  which 
our  baggage    had    plentifully    supplied,    while    I  was 
shivering  night  and  day  with  cold;  but  this  was  lit- 
tle ;  more  was  I    moved   to    see    these    heathen  men 
unworthily  profane  things  dedicated  to  the  service  of 
God.     One  of  them  had  made  himself  leggings  of  two 
of  the  veils  used  at  mass:  "Non  hos  servatum  munus 
m  usus."* 


AM 


object  not  desiined  to  aaoh  a  use—Aen.  ir.  64. 


if 


I 


■j 


THE 

.  I  can  in  truth  say,  before  God,  of  all  that  period  np 
to  mid-January,  "  Even  unto  this  hour,  we  both  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  and  are  naked  and  are  buffeted,  and  have 
no  fixed  abode.  And  we  labor,  working  with  our 
hands ;  we  are  reviled,  and  we  bless ;  we  are  persecuted, 
and  we  suffer  it;  we  are  ill-spoken  of  and  we  entreat; 
we  are  made  as  the  refuse  of  this  world,  the  off-scour- 
mg  ot  all  even  until  now."—!  Cor.  iv  H 

When,  in  the  middle  of  January,  my  owners  returned 
from  the  chase,  they,  in  a  manner,  dressed  me  in  skins, 
until  a  Lorramese  who  Kved  among  our  Dutch  neigh- 
bors, hearing  that  I  suffered  greatly  from  cold,  sent  me 
from  his  house,  a  dress,  such  as  they  usually  sell  to  the 
Indians      This  brought  some  slight  alleviation  to  my 
pains,   but  I   found  still  greater  in  the  care  of  an  old 
woman,   whose   only   son   had   died  not  long  before. 
She  was  of  very  noble  rank  in  the  nation,  for  barbarism, 
too,  has  Its  nobles ;  she  took  care  of  me,  and  the  Lord 
gave  me  grace  in  her  eyes,  yet  all  this  was  biit  a  slight 
solace  in  such  woe.  ° 

When  I   saw  that  my  life  was  at  last   in  some  sort 
spared,  I  applied  myself  to  the  study  of  the"  language 
and,  as  our  cabin  was  the  council  hall,  not  only  of  the 
village,  but  of  almost  all  that  country,  I  began  to  in- 
struct    the  oldest   on  the    articles    of  our  faith.     They 
too,  put  me  many  questions,  as  to  the  sun,  and  moon,' 
the  face,  which  seemed  to  appear  on  his  disk,  of  the 
circumference  of  the  earth,  of  the  size  of  the  ocean,  its 
tides,  whether,  as  they  had  heard,  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  anywhere  met  each  other;  adapting  my  philoso- 
phy to  their  reach,  I  satisfied  them  on  all  these;  then 
.adeed,   they  began  to  wonder,  and  say,  "  Indeed,   wa 


li 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


58 


sort 


, 


should  have  lost  a  great  treasure,   had   we  put  thi, 

domg.       Then  I  endeavored  to  raise  their  minds  from 
ere    u        ,„  ,  ^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^     ^  m 

their   old   ^,,,,.  t,i^3    „f  ^^^   ^^^^^. 

ttote    r  '^"^  "'"^^^  ""'  '"  -^-^  •--  --t^d  V  a 
r  ntel.'    .  V""  ""'  ^  ^'^°"'''*  *^™'  »°'  o-'y  -iAout 

that  .f   dehghted  by  .ts  appearance,  they  believed  it  to 

be  a  God,  they  should  know  that  the  Lord  was  much 

more  more   beautiful  than   it;"  that  Aireskoi,  whom 

hey  falsely  asserted  to  be  the  Author  and  Pres  rver  of 

We,  and  the  Giver  of  all  the  good  things  whichThey 

easy  m   behef  as   they  are   easy  to  be  convinced,  the 
mat  er  would  soon  be  settled.     But  the  prince  of   he 
world  expelled  from  almost  every  quarter  o{  the  IS 
by  the  power  of  the  cross,  seems  to\ave  retreated  inS 

dom  w?r:'  "  "^^  ^'  ''"'^^'^'''^  ■'  ~  *at  the  king! 
dom  wh.ch  this  strong  man  armed  has  possessed  hefe 

W  ofT'  *"  ''"''  '^  "«  overtLown  only  L 
lap  e  of  time,  and  by  unconquerable  constancy  on  the 

par  of  the  soldiers  of  Christ.     From  time  to  time,  hot 
ever,   Christ,  their  true  Lord  and  Lord  of  all     pL„ 
some  for  himsel,  not  only  among  thrln^lS' mt^  f 
whom  are  now  .n  heaven,  but  even  among  ad;its.  sLe 
of  whom  I  baptized  in  sickness  or  in  bondage 

—  wieh  reir^s:rrSr;:r:  ktd-if ;:;:! 

nes  which  makes  them  consider  it  r,.,,„  .„  J_f.  "  . 
you;  and  without  attention  to  which,  many  wo,JdZ 


64 


PERILS     OP     THE 


i. 


deceived.  I  sometimes  even  made  excursions  to  the 
neighboring  villages,  to  console  and  instruct  the  Chris- 
tian  Hurons,  "who  had  not  bent  their  knee  before 
Baal,"  and  to  absolve  thera  after  hearing  their  confes- 
sions ;  to  announce  God  everywhere  as  far  as  I  was  able,  to 
succor  the  dying,  but  especially  to  save  infants  in  danger 
of  death.  This  was  my  only  solace  in  my  bitterest 
mental  pangs ;  and  once,  with  this  view,  I  visited  a 
neighboring  village,  and  there  baptized  five  children ; 
I  learnt,  soon  after,  in  another  excursion,  that  all  had 
been  called  to  heaven. 

In  these  and  like  exercises,  therefore,  and  attempts 
to  study  their  language,  (for  what  study  can  there  be 
without  writing  ?)  two  months  glided  by.  About  the 
middle  of  March,  when  the  snow  had  melted  away, 
they  took  me  with  them  to  their  fishing  ground.  We 
accordingly  started  ;  the  party  consisted  of  the  old  man 
and  woman,  a  little  boy  and  myself;  four  days'  travel 
brought  us  to  a  lake  where  we  caught  nothing  but  a 
few  little  fishes. 

^  The  intestines  of  these  generally  sei-ved  as  a  season- 
ing for  our  sagamity,  the  fish  being  laid  by  to  carry 
back  to  the  village. 

Such  food  as  this,  with  the  intestines  of  deer  full  of 
blood,  and   half  putrefied   excrement,   and  mushrooms 
boiled,  and   rotten   oysters,    and    frogs,  which  they  eat 
whole,    head  and   feet,  not  even  skinned    or   cleaned  ; 
such   food,    had    hunger,    custom,    and  want  of  better' 
niade,  I  will  not  say  tolerable,  but  even  pleasing.     How 
often,  in  those  journeys,  and  in  that  quiet  wilderness, 
^did  we  sit  by   the  rivers  of  Babylon,  and  weep,  while 
wexx-membered  thee,  Sion/'  not  only  exulting  in  heaven. 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS 


55 


i 


but   even   praising   thy  God  on  earth!     "How  often, 
though  in  a  strange  land,  did  we  sing  the  canticle  of 
the  Lord;"  and  mountain  and  wildwood  resound  with 
the  praises  of  their  Maker,  which  from  their  creation 
they   had   never   heard!     How  often,   on  the    stately 
trees  of  the  forest,  did  I  carve  the  most  sacred  name 
of  Jesus,  that,  seeing  it,  the  demons  might  fly,    who 
tremble  when  they  hear  it!     How  often  on  them  too, 
did  I  not  strip  off  the  bark,  to  form  the  most  holy  Cross 
of  the  Lord,  that  the  foe  might  fly  before  it,  and  that 
by  It,  thou,  O  Lord,  my  king,  "mightst  reign  in  the 
midst  of  thy  enemies,"  the  enemies  of  thy  cross,  the 
misbelievers  and  the  pagans  who   dwell  in  that  land, 
and  the  demons  who  rule  so  powerfully  there !    I  rejoice, 
too,  that  I  had  been  led  by  the  Lord  into  the  wilder- 
ness, at  the  very  time  when  the  church  recalls  the  story 
of  his    Passion,  so  that  I  might  more  uninterruptedly 
remember  the  course  of  its  bitterness  and  gall,  and  my 
soul  might  pine  away  at  the  remembrance.— Jer.  iii.  20. 
Accordingly,  after  performing  the  services  which  1 
owed  as  a  slave  to  my  masters,  the    slave  of  savages, 
(my  occupation  being  to  cut  and  bring  in  wood  for  the 
hut,)  I  spent  almost  all  my  time  before  a  large  cross 
which  I  had  formed  on  a  huge  tree  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  hut.     But  I  was  not  long  allowed  to 
enjoy  this  holy  repose ;  indeed,  too  many  days  had  I 
passed,  unharmed  by  my  wonted  terrors.     On  Monday 
in  Holy  Week,  an  Indian  came  to  us  from  our  village  • 
the    reason   of  his   coming   was    this.     Ten   Loquois,' 
among   whom   was  the  son  of  the  man  who  had  cut  off 

my  thumb,  and  in  whose  hut  I  now  dwolf    h.A 

out  on  a  war-party  about  mid-summer.     (Summer,  fall. 


56 


■  ' 


II 


;  I 


I'ERlLa     OP     THE 


Wrffr'"''  -inter,  passed  without  thefr  being 

who.  bein,als„  ,„e.it   to  t  eTyvT  t^"^^' 
answer,  and  saiV]  fJ,af  fU      1.1,  '  ^    ®  ^"®  ^^"le 

the  younff  bravp  tl.«  c«      ^  captive  to  the  manes  of 

J'  ung  orave,  the  son  of  my  master. 

for.  from  the  lake  .here'."  tere  that T  .T  '  "1' 
•^n.,  I  .igh.  compensate  for  thld:  1  o  LlS^lf 
at  least,  was  the  conclusion  to  whi.l,  ' 

women  and  a  decrepit  oH;::  Tad  col  "w?  "'' 
sequently  set  out  the  next  day  as  if  i„  7  U       ! 

W's  hfe,  was  now  to  close  mine  also !  when  it  lasld 

a^XT::  tz:z^t.  .^zt'^'  -  ^'^ 

posed  to  be  dead  were  still  alive  •  fhpn   ,-f  , 

|hey  had  joined  another  war  ^^  'JZ     ^1^:' 
lug  m  twenty-two  captives.  ^" 

Thus  did  God  scatter  the  malignant  designs  of  th<, 
savages,   instrncting  and  showing  me  that  W.  I 

of  me,  that  I  should  cast  myself  wLX  I.t  """ 

f  liaf  v,«  «,    1 J  "iyi»eii  wnoiiy  on  him,  conscious 

that  he  would  not  recoil  and  let  me  ikil. 


OCKAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


57 


Although  I  naturally  rejoiced  to  be  rescued  from 
these  and  other  dangers,  yet  I  sighed  to  see  myself 
again  given  over  to  new  sorrows  and  heart-breaking 
torments,  compelled  me  to  drag  on  a  life  more  painful 
than  the  most  cruel  death.  For  the  success,  as  well  as 
the  reverses  of  these  men,  fell  heavily  on  me  alone  ;  if 
any  one  was  slain  in  batt'e,  I  was  at  once  demanded  as 
a  victim  to  be  offered  to  his  shade.  But  if,  as  was  gen- 
erally the  case,  they  brought  in  prisoners  after  having 
killed  more,  my  heart  was  always  rent  with  grief,  for 
they  were  either  Frenchmen  or  allies  of  the  French. 

Naturally,  therefore,  did  I  prefer  retirement  and  sol- 
itude, where,  far  from  the  villages,   I  was  no  longer 
dismayed  at  the  wonted  cruelty  of  these  savages,  and 
where  I  could  better  and  more   freely   hold   converse 
with  God.     Yet  knowing,  that,  though  Lia  was  blear- 
eyed,  she  was  more  fruitful  than  Rachel,  and  bore  more 
children ;  mindful,  too,  of  the  Institute  of  our  Society, 
which  prefers  our  neighbor's  salvation  to  our  private 
spiritual  delights,  I  reluctantly  remained  at  home ;  for 
the  village  enabled  me  to  make  greater  progress  in  the 
language,   and  to   secure   the   salvation  of  infants  and 
adults  by  baptism ;  for  I  was  greatly  grieved  whenever, 
during  my  absence,  an  adult  died  without  instruction  or 
a  child  without  baptism. 

To  return  to  our  war  party :  they  came  in  bringing 
twenty-two  prisoners,  but  belonging  to  a  nation  with 
whom  they  had  as  yet  never  been  at  war ;  still,  in  viola- 
tion of  all  right  and  justice,  they  were  beaten  with 
clubs  and  stripes,  and  mutilated  by  the  usual  cutting  off 
of  fineers.  Five  of  them  were  to  bft  nnt.  tn  t^t^afh  f^^ 
all  the  rest,  bemg  boys  and  girls,  or  women,  were  kept 


58 


PERILS     OF     TH 


£ 


as  slaves.     Their 


,.  .     ,  instruction  was  now  an  object  of  mv 

sohcxtude,  for  I  was  ignorant  of  their  language;  yet  by 
God  s  grace  I  was  able,  by  a  few  words  that  I  picked 
up,  but  chiefly  by  the  kindness  of  one  who  knew  both 
languages,  to  instruct  and  baptize  them.    This  happened 
at  Easter      At  Whitsuntide,  ^.hey  brought  in  new  pris- 
oners,   three  women  with  their  little  children,  the  men 
having  been  killed  near  the  French  settlements.     They 
were   led  into  the  village  entirely  naked,  not  even  with 
any   kind   of  petticoat   on;  and,  after   being    severely 
beaten  on  the  way,  had  their  thumbs  cut  off.     One  of 
them,  a  thing  not  hitherto  done,  was  burnt  all  over  her 
body,  and  afterwards  thrown   into  a  huge  pyre.     And 
worthy  of  note  ig  a  strange  rite  I  then  beheld,  when 
this  woman  was  burnt;  at  each  wound  which  they  in- 
flicted, by  holding  lighted  torches  to  her  body,  an  old 
man  m  a  loud  voice  exclaimed,  "Demon  Aireskoi,  we 
offer  thee  this  victim,  whom  we  burn  for  thee,  that  thou 
mayst  be  filled  with  her  flesh,  and  render  us  ever  anew 
victorious  over  our  enemies."     Her  body  was  cut  up 
sent  to  the  various  villages  and  devoured ;  for  about 
mid-winter,  grieving  as  it  were,  that  they  had  refrained 
from   eating  the  flesh  of  some  prisoners,  they  had  in  a 
solemn   sacrifice   of  two  bears,   which   they  offered  to 
their    demon,    uttered   the    words,    "  Justly  dost  thou 
pumsh  us,  oh.  Demon  Aireskoi ;  lo  !  this  long  time  we 
have  taken  no  captives;  during  the  summer  and  fall 
we  have   taken  none  of  the  Algonquins.     (These  they 
consider  properly   their  enemies.)     We    have    .inned 
against  thee,  in  that  we  ate  not  the  last  captives  thrown 
into  our  hands  ;  but,  if  we  shall  ever  again  capture  any 
^  __^.  to  vicTuar  them  as  we  now  consume 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 

these  two  bears ; "  and  they  kept  their  word.  This  poor 
woman  I  baptized  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  unable  to 
do  so  before,  and  then  only  while  raising  a  drink  to  her 
parched  lips. 

On  the  eve  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  of  whom  it  is 
written  "  that  many  shall  rejoice  at  his  birth,"  a  new 
weight  was  added  to  my  usual  sorrows ;  eleven  Hurons 
and  a  Frenchman  were  brought  in ;  three  Frenchmen 
and  ten  Hurons,  among  them^some  of  the  most  celebrated 
Christians,  had  been  killed,  treacherously  circumvented 
by  a  show  of  friendship.    Of  these,  they  bore  the  scalps 
or  hair,  which  they  tear  off  with  the  skin,  from  their 
fallen  enemies.     I  certainly  felt,  in  my  own  person,  this 
punishment  deserved  by  my   sins,  and  pronounced  of 
old  by  God  to  his  people,  when  he  said  "that  their  new 
moons,  their  festivals,  and  solemnities  should  be  turned 
into  grief  and  sorrow,"  as  Easter  and  Whitsuntide,  and 
the  nativity  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  each  brought  sor- 
rows on  me,  to  be  afterwards  increased  to  agony  by  the 
slaughter  of  a  hundred  Hurons,  most  of  whom,  racked 
by  fearful  torments,  were  burnt  to  death  in  the  neigh- 
boring cantons.     "  Wo  is  me,  wherefore  was  I  born  to 
see  the  ruin  of  my  people." — 1  Mach.  ii.  7. 

Verily,  in  these,  and  like  heart-rending  cares,  "my 
life  is  wasted  with  grief,  and  my  years  with  sighs ; " 
(Ps.  XXX.  2,)  "for  the  Lord  hath  corrected  me  for  mine 
iniquity,  and  hath  made  my  soul  waste  away  as  a  spi- 
der, "—xxxviii.  12.  "  He  hath  filled  me  with  my 
bitterness,  he  hath  ir-biiated  me  with  wormwood, 
(Lament,  iii.  15,)  because  the  comforter,  the  relief  of 
my  soul,  is  far  from  me,"  (i.  16.)  "  but,  in  ail  these 
things,  we  overcome,"  and  by  the  &vor  of  God  will 


I 

,11 

[  (i 

( 


60 


II 


PERILS     or     THE 


overco«e,  « because  of  him  that  hath  loved  us,"  (Horn, 
vm.  SI)  untU  "he  come  that  is  to  come  and  will  not 

coiT  at "  ?V  ""'"  "^  <^^  "''^  '''»'  "'  "  '"'-W 
come,  (Job  vu.  1.    or  my  change  be  made."_xiv.  U 

tlrouTh^b    p'°""'   '"  ""   P™'"'""'^'   --I-   either 
through  the  Europeans  or  the  savage  nations  around  us. 

did  I  wish  to  fly.  yet  on  this  cross,  to  which  our  Lord 
has  nailed  me  beside  himself,  am  I  resolved  by  his  grace 
to  hve  and  die.     For  who  in  my  absence  would  console 
the  French  captives?  who  absolve  the  penitent?  who 
remind  the  christened  Huron  of  his  duties  ?    who  in- 
struct the  prisoners  to  be  brought  in  from  time  to  time? 
who  baptize  the  dying,  encourage  them  in  their  tor- 
men  s?    who  cleanse  the  infants  with  the  saving  wa- 
ters ?  who  provide  for  the  safety  of  the  dying  adults, 
the  instruction  of  those  in  health?  ~And  indeed  I  can- 
not but  think  it  a  peculiar  interposition  of  divine  good- 
ness, that  while  on  one  side  a  nation  fallen  from  the 
true  Catholic  religion  barred  the  entrance  of  the  faith  to 
these  regions,  and  on  the  other  a  fierce  war  between  sav- 
^e  nations,  and  on  their  account  with  the  French  did   • 
the  same,  I  should  have  faUen  into  the  hands  of  these 
Indians,  who  by  the  will  of  God,  reluctantly,  and,  I  may 
say,  against  their  will,  have,  thus  far,  spared  my  life,  that 
through  me,  though  unworthy,  those  might  be  instruct- 
ed,  believe  and  be  baptized,  who  are  predestined  to 
eternal  life.     Smce  the  time  when  I  was  taken.  I  have 
baptized  seventy,  children,  young  and  old,  of  five  differ, 
ent  nations  and  languages,  that  of  every  tribe,  and  peo- 
ple   and  tongue    they  might  stand  in  the  sight  of  the 
Jjamb. — ^Apoc.  vii.  9. 

Therefore  do  T  dmMxr  v.««,  y^..  i ,    ., 

,-^.  ^..^,,  2njf  iuietjs  10  me  L,ord  and 


OCEAIf     AND     WILDERNESS. 


61 


to  the  Father  of  my  Lord,  that,  if  it  be  for  his  glory  he 
may  confound  all   the  designs    of  the  Europeans  and 
savages,  for  ransoming  me  or   sending  me  back  to  the 
whites.     For  many  of  the   Indians   speak  of  my  bein^ 
restored,  and  the   Dutch,  among  whom   I  write   this! 
have  frequently  offered,   and  now  again  offer,  to  rescue 
me  and  my  companions.     I  have  twice  visited  them  and 
been  most  kindly  welcomed;  they  leave  no  stone  un- 
turned  to  effect  our  deliverance ;  and  have  made  many 
presents  to  the   Indians  with  whom  I  am,  to  induce 
them  to  treat  me  humanely. 

But  I  am  now  weary  of  so  long  and  so  prolix  a  letter ;  I 
therefore  earnestly  beg  your  reverence,  ever  to  recognize 
me,  though  unworthy,  as   one  of  yours ;  for,  though  a 
savage  m  dress  and  manner,  and  almost  without  God  in 
so  tossed  a  life,  yet,  as  I  have  ever  lived  a  son  of  the 
most  holy  Church  of  Rome,  and  of  the  Society,  so  do  I 
wish  to  die.     Obtain  for  me  from  God,  Reverend  Fa- 
ther,  by  your  holy  sacrifices,  that  although  I  have  hith- 
erto  but  ill  employed  the  means  he  gave  me  to  attain 
the  highest  sanctity,  I  may  at  least  employ  well  this  last 
occasion  which  he   offers  me.     Your  bounty  owes  this 
surely  to  your  son  who  has  recourse  to  you,  for  I  lead 
a  truly  wretched  life,  where  every  virtue  is  in  danger. 
Faith  in  the   dense  darkness  of  paganism;  hope  in  so 
long  and  hard  trials;  charity  amid  so  much  corruption, 
deprived  of  all  the  Sacraments.     Purity  is  not  indeed 
here  endangered  by  delights,  yet  it  is  amid  this  promis- 
cuous  and  intimate  intercourse   of  both  sexes;  in  the 
perfect  hberty  of  each  to  hear  and  do  what  he  pleases, 
and  most  of  all  in  their  constant  n^WrU...      i?^^  I.  J 
willmg  or  not,  you  must  often  see  what  elsewhere  is 


62 


PBRILS     OF     THB 


rM' 


■;   I 


i;  : 


li      {! 


!     li    i 


r 


shut  out,  not  only  from  wandering,  but  even  from  curi- 
ous eyes.  Hence  I  daily  groan  to  my  God,  begging 
him  not  to  leave  me  without  help  amid  the  dead  ;  beg- 
ging him,  I  say,  that  amid  so  much  impurity  and  such 
superstitious  worship  of  the  devil  to  which  he  has  ex- 
posed me,  naked  as  it  were,  and  unarmed,  "  my  heart 
may  be  undefiled  in  his  justifications,"  (Ps.  cxviii.  80,) 
so  that,  when  that  good  Shepherd  shall  come,  "  who  will 
gather  together  the  dispersed  of  Israel,"  (Ps.  cxlvi.  2,) 
he  may  gather  us  from  among  the  nations  to  bless  his 
holy  name.  Amen !  Amen ! — Ps.  cv.  47. 
Your  Reverence's 

Most  humble  servant  and  son  in  Christ, 

Isaac  Jogues. 

Permit  me,  through  your  Reverence,  to  salute  all  my 
dear  Fathers  and  Brothers,  whom  I  tenderly  love  and 
cherish  in  Christ,  and  to  commend  myself  to  their  Holy 
Sacrifices  and  Prayers. 

Your  most  humble  servant  and  son  in  Christ, 

Isaac  Jogues. 

Renssalaerswyck  in  New  Nertherland,  > 

August  5,  1643.      5 


This  letter  was  written,  as  we  shall  see  by  the  next, 
after  the  holy  missionary  had  left  the  Mohawk  villages 
for  the  last  time,  unconscious  as  be  was  while  penning 
it  at  Renssalaerswyck,  our  modern  Albany,  where  the 
kind-hearted  Dutch,  impelled  by  their  minister.  Domi- 
nie Megapolensis,  showed  him  every  courtesy  and  kind 
sympathy. 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS 


es 


They  had  already  enabled  him  to  write  to  Monsieur 
de  Champflour,  Governor  of  Three  Rivers,  in  a  jargon  of 
French,  Latin  and  Huron,  the  following  lines : 

Sir  :— This  is  my  fourth  letter  since  I  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the   Iroquois.     Time  and   paper  prevent  my 
repeating  here,  what  I  have  already  given  you  at  length. 
Couture  and  I,  are  yet  alive.     Henry,  a   young   man 
taken  at  Montreal,  was  brought  in  on  St.  John's  eve. 
He  did  not  run  the  gauntlet  on  entering  the  village,  nor 
has  he  lost  any  fingers  as  we  did ;  he  is  alive,  as  well  as 
all  the  Hurons  brought  in  with  him.     Be  on  your  guard 
everywhere.     New  parties  are  constantly  setting  out, 
and  you  must  rely  on  it  that  the  river  will  not  be  free 
from  the  enemy  before  the  fall.     The  Iroquois  here  are 
about  seven  hundred ;  they  have  three  hundred  arque- 
busses  and  handle  them  well.     They  can  reach  Three 
Rivers  by  diiferent  streams.     Fort  Richelieu  gives  them 
a  little  more  trouble,  but  does  not  hinder  them.     The 
Iroquois  say  that  if  those   who   took  and   killed   the 
French  at  Montreal,  had  known  how  you  acted  in  res- 
cuing the  Sokokiois  from  the  hands  of  the  Algonquins, 
they  would  not  have  done  so.     They  had  set  out  in  mid- 
winter, before  the  news  came.     For  all  that,  a  new 
party  h»s  just  set  out,  and  Mathurin's  man,  (F.  Brebeuf 
knows  him  well,)  is  with  them,  and  leads  the  band,  as 
he  did  at  our  capture  last  year.     This  troop  desires  and 
intends  to  take  French  as  well  as  Algonquins.     Do  not 
let  any  consideration  for  me  prevent  your  doing  what 
may  be  for  God's  glory. 

The  design  of  the  Iroquois,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  is  to 
take  all  the  Hurons.  if  thev  can.  nnf  fn  (le^th  *}"-  ~,^-i. 
eminent,  and  a  good  part  of  the  rest,  and  make,  of  the 


64 


PERILS     OP     THB 


two  one  people  and  one  land.     I  feel  great  compassion 
lor  these   poor  people,   many  of  whom   are  Christians, 
others    Catechumens,    prepared    for   Baptism.     When 
shall  these  evils  be  stopped  ?     When  they  are  all  taken  ? 
1  received  many  letters  from  the  Hurons  with  the  Rela- 
tion  taken  at  Montreal.     The  Dutch  have  wished  to 
deliver  us,  but  in  vain.     They  are  now  making  another 
effort,  but    will    be,  I   think,   equally  fruitless.     I  am 
more  and  more  resolved  to  sta^  nere,  as  long  as  it  shall 
please  our  Lord,  and  not  go  away,  even  if  an  occasion 
Should  offer.     My  presence  consoles   the  French   Hu- 
rons  and  Algonquins.     I  have  baptized  more  than'sixty 
persons,  many  of  whom  are  now  in  heaven.     This  ia 
my  only  consplation,  with   the  will   of  God,  to  which  I 
most  cheerfully  unite  mine. 

I  beg  you  to  recommend  them  to  offer  prayers  and 
masses  for  us,  and  especially  for  him,  who  desires  ever 
to  be 

Your  most  humble  servant, 

Isaac  Jogues,  S.  J. 
Iroquois  Village,  June  30th,  1643. 

The  following  letter  gives  the  account  of  his  escape 
Reverend    Father:— The    Peace    op    Christ  — 
On  the  very  day  of  the  feast  of  our  holy  Father  Igna- 
tius,    July  31.0  I  left  the  village  where  I  was  a  prisoner 
,  to  follow  and  accompany  some  Iroquois  who  were  ffoinff 
first  to  trade,  then  to  fish.     Having  got  through  their 
traffic,  they.proceeded  to  a  place  seven  or  eight  leagues 
below  the  Dutch  post,  which  is  on  the  river  where  we 
were  fishmg.     While  arranging  our  weirs  for  the  fish  a 
report  reached  us  that  an  Iroquois  war  Dartv.  r.f.rr!.A 


^- 


OCZAN     AND     WILDERNESS 


65 


fi-om  the  Huron  hunt,  had  killed  five  or  ^^ix  on  the  spot, 
and  brought  in  four  prisoners,  two  of  whom  had  been 
already  burnt  at  our  vUlage  with  more  than  common 
cruelty. 

At  these  tidings,  my  heart  was  rent  with  most  keen 
and  bitter  grief,  that  I  had  not  seen,  consoled  or  bap- 
tized  these  poor  victims.     Fearful  that  something  of  the 
kind  might  happen  again  during  my  absence,  I  went  to 
a  good  old  woman,  who,  from   her  age  and   her  care  of 
me,  as  well  as  from  her  compassion  for  my  sufferings, 
called  me  her  nephew,  as  I  called  her,  aunt.     "Aunt," 
said  I,  « I  would  much  rather  go  back  to  our  cabin,  'l 
am  very  lonesome  here."     I  did  not  indeed  expect  more 
comfort  or  less   pain  at   the  village,  where  I   suffered  a 
continual  martyrdom,   compelled  to  witness  before  my 
eyes  the  horrible  cruelties  they  perpetrate,  but  my  heart 
could  not  bear  that  one  should   die,  without  my  afford- 
ing him  baptism.     "  Go !    nephew,"  said  this  good  wo- 
man, "go,  if  you  are  tired  of  this  place,  and  take  some- 
thing  to  eat  on  the  way."     I  accordingly  embarked  in 
the  first  canoe  going  up  to  the  village,  always  conducted, 
and  always  accompanied,  by  Iroquois. 

On  reaching  the  Dutch  post,  through  which  we  had 
to  pass,  I  learned  that  our  village  was  furious  against 
the  French,  and  that  they  only  awaited  my  n  turn  to 
burn  me.  The  reason  of  all  was  this.  Among  the  war 
parties  against  the  French,  Algonquins  and  Hurons  was 
one  that  resolved  to  go  and  prowl  around  Fort  Eichelieu 
to  spy  the  French  and  their  Indian  allies,  A  certain 
Huron  of  this  band  taken  by  the  Iroquois,  and  natural- 
ized^among  them,  came  to  ask  me  for  letters  to  carry  to 
the  French,  hoping  perhaps  to  surprise  some  one  by  this 


I 


66 


PERILS     01     THE 


*f 


bait;  but,  as  I  had  no  doubt  the  French  would  be  on 
their  guard,  and  I  saw  the  importance  of  giving  them 
some  inkling  of  the  designs,  arms  and  treachery  of  our 
enemy,  I  found  means  to  get  a  bit  of  paper  to  write  on. 
Ihe  Dutch  did  me  this  charity. 

I  knew  well  the  danger  to  which  I  exposed  myself. 
I  was  well  aware  that,  if  any  mishap  befell  the  party,  I 
would  be  made  respor.sible,  and  the  blame  thrown  on 
my  letters.  I  foresaw  my  death,  but  it  seemed  to  me 
sweet  and  agreeable,  employed  for  the  public  good,  and 
the  consolation  of  our  French,  and  the  poor  Indians 
who  listen  to  the  word  cf  Jesus  Christ.  My  heart  was 
undisturbed  by  fear  at  the  sight  of  all  that  might  hap- 
pen— God's  glory  was  concerned. 

So  I  gave  my  letter  to  the  young  brave  who  never 
returned.     The  story  given  by  his  comrades  is,  that  he 
carried  it  to  Fort  RicheHeu,  and  that,  as  soon  as  the 
French  saw  it,  they  fired  their  cannon  at  them  ;  that, 
alarmed  at  this,  most  of  them  took  to  flight,  all  naked, 
leaving  one  of  their  canoes,  in  which  were  three  arque- 
buses, powder,  baU,  and  other  baggage.     When  this 
news  was  brought  into  the  vUlage,  the  cry  was  raised 
that  my  letter  had  caused  them  to  be  treated  so.     The 
rumor  spread  around ;  it  reached  my  ears ;  I  was  taunted 
with  the  mishap;  they  talked  of  nothing  but  burning 
me ;  and,  had  I  been  found  in  the  village  when  these 
braves  returned,  fire,  rage,  and  cruelty,  had  deprived 
me  of  life. 

To  increase  my  misfortune,  another  party  returning 
from  the  neighborhood  of  Montreal,  where  they  had 
laid  an  ambush  for  the  French,  said  that  two  of  their 
party  had  been  kiUed,  and  two  wounded.    AU  mad« 


OCEAN     AND     WIl 


DEKNESS 


67 


me  gu.lty  of  these  mishaps.  Vhey  were  now  beside 
themselves  w,th  rage,  and  imp„,ie„,  f„,.  „,  ,,,„,.„, 
All  these  reports  I  heard,  offeriug  ,„y.elf  u„,"e,servedly 

The  commander  of  the  Dutch  post  where  we  were 
aware  of  the  evil  design  of  the  savages,  and  aware,  too 
that    he  Chevaher  de  Montmagny  had  prevented  the 
Caua<k  Indians  from  coming  to  kill  the   Dutch,   had 
offered  me  means  of  escape.     "  Here,"  said  he,  "  lies  a 
vessel  at  anchor,  to  sail  in  a  few  days.     Get  privately 
on   board.     It  ,s  bound  first  to  Virginia,  whence  it  will 
carry  you  to  Bordeaux  or  Rochelle,  where  it  must  stop." 
Ihankmg  h.m  with  much  respect  and  courtesy,  I  told 
him  that  the   Iroquois  would  suspect  them  of  favoring 
my  escape  and  perhaps  do  some  injury  to  their  people 
No!  no!"  he  replied,  "do  not  fear,  get  on  board'  it 
«  a  fine  opportunity,   and  you  will  never  find  a  surer 
Way  of  escaping." 

At  these  words,  my  heart  was  perplexed.     I  doubted 
whether  it  was  not  for  the  greater  glory  of  our  Lord 
to   expose   myself  to    the    danger    of  savage    fury  and 
flames,  m  order  to  aid  in  the  salvation  of  some  soul.     I 
therefore    replied;  "This  affair,  sir,  seems  to   me  so 
important,  that  I  cannot  give  you  an  answer  on  this 
spot ;  give  me,  if  you  please,  to-night  to  think  it  over 
I  will  recommend  it  to  our  Lord  ;  I  will  examine  the 
reasons  on  both  sides,  and  will  tell  you  my  final  resolu- 
tion m  the  morning."     Greatly  astonished,  he  granted 
my  request.     The  night  I   spent  in  prayer,  ea^estly 
imploring  our  Lord  not  to  let  mp  „,1„„^  „  „r.,...-/ 
myself,  but  to  give  me  light  to  know  his  most  holy  will ; 


I  ! 


m 
uifl 


68 


PERILS     OF     THE 


that  m  all,  and  through  all,  eren  to  the  stake  itself,  1 
would  follow  it.  The  reasons  to  retain  me  in  the  country 
were  the  consideration  of  the  French  and  Indians ;  I 
oved  then.,  and  felt  so  great  a  desire  to  be  of  aid  to 
them,  that  I  had  resolved  to  pass  the  rest  of  my  days 
m  this  captivity,  for  their  salvation;  but  now  I  beheld 
the  face  of  aifairs  entirely  changed. 

First,   as  for  the  three  Frenchmen,  brought  prisoners 
like  myself  mto  the  country,  one.  Bene  Goupil,  had 
been  massacred  at  my  feet.     This  young  man  was  as 
pure  as  an  angel.     Henry,  taken  at  Montreal,  had  fled 
to   the   woods ;  because,  while  he    was    beholding   the 
cruelties  perpetrated  on  two  Hurons  roastii,g  alive,  some 
Iroquois  told  him  that  they  would  treat  him  so  and  me 
too,   as  soon  as  I  got  back.     This  threat  made  him 
resolve   to  run  the  risk   of  starving  in   the  woods,  or 
being  devoured  by  some  wild  beast,  rather  than  endure 
the  torments  inflicted  by  these  half  demons.     He  had 
not  been  seen  for  seven  days.     As  to  William  Couture, 
I  could  scarcely  see  any  means  of  being  of  service  to 
him  for  he  had  been  put  in  a  village  at.  a  distance  from 
mine,  and  the  Indians  kept  him  so  busy  here  and  there, 
that  I  could  no  longer  find  him.     He  had,  moreover, 
himself  told  me,  "  Father,  try  to  escape ;  as  soon  as  I  see 
no  more  of  you,  I  will  manage  to  get  off.     You  know 
well  that  I  remain  in  this  captivity  only  for  your  sake : 
do  your  best  then  to  escape,  for  I  cannot  think  of  my 
own  hberty  or  life,  till  I  see  you  in  safety."     Besides 
this  good  young  friend  had  been  given  to  an  old  man 
who  assured  him  that  he  would  let  him  go  in  peace,  if 
I  could  effect  my  deliverance,  so  that  I  no  longer  saw 
any  reason  to  remain  on  accmmt  nf  >!,„  f i. 


OCEAN     AND     -WllDEBKESS. 


69 


As  to  the  Indians,  instructing  them  was  now  out  of 
the  question,  and  almost  hopeless;  for  the  whole  conn. 
"T   WHS  so  excited  against  me,  that  I  no  longer  found 
»eans  to  speak  to  them  or  gain  them ;  and  the  Algon- 
qmns   and  Hurons  kept  aloof  from  me,  as  a  vi^im 
destined  to  the  ilames,  because  they  feared  to  come  in 
ior  a  share  of  the  rage  and  hatred  which  the   Iroquois 
bore  me.     I  saw,  too,  that  I  had  some  knowledge  of 
their  language,   that  I   knew  their  country  and  their 
^trength,  and  that  I  could  perhaps  contribute  better  to 
their  salvation  in  other  ways,  than  by  remaining  among 
them.     All  this  knowledge,  it  occurred  to  me!  would 
die  with  me,  if  I  did  not  escape.     The  wretches  too, 
had  so  little  intention  of  giving  us  up,  that  they  com-   ' 
fitted  an  act  of  perfidy  against  the  right  and  custom  of 

Sokokiois,  a  lies  of  the  Iroquois,  having  been  taken  by 
the  upper  Algonquins,  and  brought  to  Three  Eivers,  or 
Quebec  as  a  prisoner,  was  delivered,  and  set  at  liberty 
by  the  intervention  of  the  Governor  of  New  France,  at 
he  sohcita  ion  of  our  Fathers.     The  good  Indian  see- 
ing that  the  French  had  saved  his  Jiff,  sent  b  1 M 
pre  ents  m  the  month  of  April,  to  deliver  at  least  one 
of  the   French.     The    Iroquois    retained   the  pre  enti 
without  setting  one  of  us  at  liberty ;  a  treachery,  peZ 
unexampled    among  these  tribes,  for   they   invartbly 
observe   the   law,   that   whoso   touches   or  accep     t£ 
present  made  him,  must  execute  what  is  asked  by  tt 
present.     Accordingly,  when  they  do  not  wish  to^r^i 
:tWsinS;ar--''^-'^'^«P~»-^^e 
But  to  return  to  my  purpose ;  having  weighed  before 


Td 


PERILS     OP     THE 


God  with  all  possible  abstraction  from  self,  the  reason, 
for  remaanmg  among  the  Indians,  and  those  for  leaving, 
I  concluded  that  our  Lord  would  be  more  pleased  with 
my  taking  the  opportunity  to  escape. 

As   soon  as  it  was  day,  I  went  to  salute  the  Dutch 
governor,  and  told  him  the  resolution  I  had  come  to 
before  God;  he  called  for  the  officers  of  the  ship,  told 
them  his  intentions,  and  exhorted  them  to  receive  and 
conceal  me,  in  a  word,  to   carry  me   over   to   Europe. 
They  rephed,  that  if  I  could  once  set  foot  in  their  ves- 
8el,I   was   safe;  I   should   not   leave  it  till  I  reached 
Bordeaux  or  Kochelle.     "Cheer  up,  then,"  said  the 
.  governor,  "return  with  the  Indians,  and  this  evening, 
or  m  the  night,  steal  off  quietly  and  n,ake  for  the  river 
there   you  will  find  a  little  boat,  which  J  will  have' 

Z t  ?  1^\^°"  '°  '^"  '^'^■"  ^^'«'  -""^t  humble 
thanks  to  all  those  gentlemen,  I  left  the  Dutch  the  bet- 
ter to  conceal  my  design ;  in  the  evening,  I  retired,  with 

T.h7  '7'^^^f »«""«'  'o  -  barn,  where  we  spent  the 
wght;  before  lying  down,  I  went  out  to  see  where  I 
could  most  easily  escape.  The  dogs  then  let  loose,  ran 
at  me,  and  a  large  and  powerful  one,  snapped  at  my 
bare  leg,  and  bit  it  severely;  I  immediately  entered  the 
bam  the  Iroquois  closed  the  door  securely,  and  to 
guard  me  better,  came  and  lay  beside  me,  especially  ^ne 

ZvluT  "!  ^TT"■  "PP"'"'"*^  '"  ^^'^b  me.  Seeing 
myself  beset  with  these  mishaps,  and  the  barn  well  shut 
and  surrounded  by  dogs,  that  would  betray  me  if  I 
attempted  to  go  out,  I  almost  thought  that  I  could  not 
escape,  and  sweetly  complained  to  my  God,  that,  having 
given  the  thought  of  escaping,  "  He  hath  shut  up  my 
Way    With    sqnarp    flf/^«^c      j    _•„   ^  .  .  ^ 

-^  .v..^vo,   tuiu  m  ii  spacious  place  my 


OCEAN     AND     WILDE.NESS.  yj 

not  see.    Iwe„  u„  „  H  ™  T"'^  ""^  '°™^  ''^^  I  did 

Hi«  F,e™.h,  Ce''rr;:tc;\r  r  r  ^'"« 

he  immediately  went  „„  °  w  ?  "'''^' '^'''"Si 
had  taken  my  LIZT  *""  "^^  ^'  '"o"  ="1 

of  the  Blessed  vS'Tlr^''^"'''  ^'"'«  »«» 
-ooden  cross  ,-hiehT'had  ^ZZl  '''™''  ^""^  "^ 
my  Savior's  sufferings      H  '^  ""^  '"  "'"d  of 

without  making  anTnoiS  "?  K-  °"'  °'  *«  ^-» 
climbed  over  a^enfe  rw^hleWdVl '""''' ^ 
ran  straight  to  the  river,  where  the  1  ^°"'''  '^^ 

much  as  my  wounded  leg  e„ufd  tT.^  '',""" 
was  a  good  quarter  of  a  leLue  r  /'  ^^  *"  ""^^^^co 
had  been  told,  but  as  the  f  ^  u  .  '"'  *"  '"'^'  *»  I 
high  and  dry     I  pusld    t  .     ^""^  ''°^' '»  ^«« 

finding  it  too^'heaC; lalta'T-  Tr^'^'' 
their  boat  to  take  me  on  board  Til  ^  ""^  "* 
I  do  not  know  whether  h  y  held  17?"  T'""^ 
•"ay  no  one  appeared,  and  day  "^  ^0;  h  ''  "  '' 
reveal  to  the  Iroquois  the  robbe^'hich  I  h  f"""/  '° 

myself,  and  I  feared  to  be  surprised  ilrv  ™''"  "^ 

Weary  of  hallooing,  I  return»?r      T"'""'*"*''""*- 

-  ;he  Almighty  tf  irsri^Zg^'r  ^'T« 
at  last  so  well,  by  working  ,>  .1  i  '  ^^ce^ded 
-outly,  that  I  gJe  it  Int7th  tl^  7  ^"'  ^"^'^''^ 
floated,  I  jumped  in,  and  reacb-d  hi'  '^\^°°"  ^^  i' 
perceived  by  any  Iroquois      W  "'''^^  '^o"*'  ™- 

in  the  bottom  of  ther;.j7f.%™"^*-«*«'y  lodged 
large  box  on  the  hatch."  "'  """"  '"  """ 


,  they  put ; 

i  was  two  days  and  two  night, 


7« 


TERILS     OF     THE 


in  the  hold  of  this  ship,  in  such  a  state  that  I  expected 
to  be  suffocated,  and  die  of  the  stench,  when  I  remem- 
bered poor  Jonah,  and  prayed  our  Lord,  "that  I  mig\t 
not  flee  from  his  face,"  (Jonas  i.  3,)  nor  depart  from 
his  will,  but,  on  the  contrary,  "  that  he  would  infatuate 
all  counsels,"  (2  Kings  xv.  31,)  that  were  not  for  his 
glory,  and  to  keep  me  in  the  land  of  these  heathen,  if 
he  did  not  approve  my  retreat  and  flight. 

The  second  night  of  my  voluntary  imprisonment,  the 
Minister  of  the  Hollanders  came  to  tell  mc,  that  the 
Iroquois  had  made  much  trouble,  and  that  the  Dutch 
settlers  were  afraid  that  they  would  set  fire  to  their 
houses  and  kill  their  cattle.  They  have  reason  to  fear 
them,  for  they  are  armed  with  good  arquebuses.  "If," 
I  replied,  "  for  my  sake,  this  great  tempest  is  upon  you, 
cast  me  into  the  sea." — Jonas  i.  12.  If  this  tr(  ible  has 
been  caused  by  me,  I  am  ready  to  appease  it  at  the  loss 
of  my  life.  I  had  never  wished  to  escape  to  the  injury 
of  the  least  man  in  the  colony.* 

At  last,  then,  I  had  to  leave  my  den ;  the  sailors  took 
umbrage,  saying  "  that  they  had  pledged  their  word  in 
case  I  could  set  foot  on  the  ship,  and  that  they  were 
now  taking  me  off  at  the  very  moment  when  they 
should  have  brought  me,  had  I  not  been  there ;  that  I 
had  put  my  life  in  danger,  by  escaping  on  their  promise, 
and  that,  cost  what  it  might,  they  must  stick  to  it." 
This  honest  bluntness  touched  me,  but  I  begged  them 
to  let  me  go,  as  the  captain,  who  had  opened  to  me  the 


♦  He  could  say  no  more;  for,  spent  with  suffering  of  mind  and  body,  and 
with  want  of  food,  he  fell  senseless  on  the  deck.— MS.  of  F.  Buteux. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  TJ 

cloorway   of  escaping,   „„w   asked  me   back  •     T   w 
taken  to  his  house,  where  he  kept  me  conSed     k 
eomn.gs  and  goings  were  done  by  nightTo  Jat  T" 
not  discovered      Tn  =ii  .i,-  *^    '  "'  ^  ^"^ 

urged  mv  own  /  u     ?'°''''^^S,  I  might  have 

rgea  my  own  reasons,  but  it  was  not  for  me  to  sneak 

Trs  Tch'T,!'"'  "^^ '°  '"""^  ">«  ~S 

told  me  that  w        "^  ™':"'"^''-      ^*  "-''  *«  captain 

wait  1 1  the  mmds  of  the  Indians  were  appeased  in 
this  advice  all  concurred  H„,«  ,1,  "  ^PP^^^>  m 
prisoner  in  hi.  1,  ^"V     "«'«  ^^^'^  I  am  a  voluntary 

pnsoner  in  his  house,  whence  I  write  this.  If  you  ask 
>»y  thought,  ,n  all  this  affair,  I  will  tell  you,  Fil    that 

an  tr:iracru:tr;fjt"L':^t  /T  -'  r 

come  and  .r„  ),«  procect  me,  the  Indians,  who 

come  and  go  here  every  moment,  wiU  discover  me  and 
f  they  ever  believe  that  I  am  stiU  here,  I  must  TcesTa- 
rily  be  restored  to  their  hands. 

flight,  how  will  they  treat  me  when  I  fall  a^ain  i^ 
their  power?     I  will  die  b,  „„         /  'all  aga,„  ^^^^ 

fire,  rage  and  new  dvtd^riti^f:^? '"'''•  ''^'^ 
life.  Blessed  be  God's  name  Wer  ^  W  ^^  ""'  "^ 
the   bosom   of   his   divine  ITJILJT  T  " 

^'Jea  the  very  hairs  of  your  headr:tbe!rF^^^ 
not,  therefore;  you  are  of  more  value  than  J, 
rows,"  "not  one  of  whom  falls  to  .1,         ^^^  ^P"^" 
yourFather."_LukeIii°7.  "*  "''^'""^ 

I  We  been  hidden  ten  or  twelve  dav«  ^r,A  v  v    .. 
possible  that  an  evil  day  will  nollmTup:  1":     "' 

*  By  cantain.  ha  Tr«a-ia  -  i- 

•-.  .«ve™„„  for  h.  ™";^riS  J"""  "^  Vaa  0„rt„,  „i»  i. 

7 


74 


m 


ii 


mil 


PERILS     OP     THE 


In  the  third  place,  you  will  see  our  great  need  of 
your  prayers,  and  of  the  holy  sacrifices  of  all  our  Fathers 
Give  us  this  alms  "that  the  Lord  may  render  me  fit  to 
love  him,  patient  to  endure,  constant  to  persevere  in  his 
holy  love  and  service."  This,  and  a  little  New  Testa- 
ment from  Europe,  are  my  sole  desires.  Pray  for  these 
poor  nations  that  burn  and  eat  each  other,  that  they  may 
come  to  a  knowledge  of  their  Creator,  and  render  him 
the  tribute  of  their  love.  "  I  am  mindful  of  you  in  my 
bonds;"   captivity  cannot  enchain  my  remembrance. 

I  ^^y  in  heart  and  aflEection,  etc. 
Rensselaerswyck,  30  August,  1643. 

The  Mohawks  were  not  easily  appeased,  and  Father 
Jogues  remained  a  close  prisoner  for  six   weeks ;    so 
much  neglected  by  his  honest,  but  it  would  seem  avari- 
cious   host,  that  he  actually  suffered  hunger  and  thirst, 
for  though  his  excellent  friend,  Megapolensis,  constantly 
sent  him  victuals  from  his  own  table,  it  was  not  always 
that  his  present  reached  the  missionary.     In  a  letter 
written  by  Father  Jogues  after  his  return  to  France  we' 
can  pursue   his   history.     Addressing   Father   Chlrles 
Lalemant,  the  first  Superior  of  the  Jesuit  missions  in 
Canada,  already  known  to  our  readers,  he  says  :— 

"  Eennes,  January  6,  1644. 
« '  Now  I  know  in  very  deed  that  the  Lord  hath  sent 
his  angels  and  hath  delivered  me  out  of  the  hand  of 
Herod,  and  from  all  the  expectation  of  the  Jews.'— -Acts 
xu.  11.  The  Iroquois  came  to  the  Dutch  post  about 
the  middle  of  September,  and  made  a  great  deal  of  dis- 

turbance.  hut  nf-.  lacf  ranAiTr^^  4.1.-  ,    ,      . 

-, -_,...  ^ccv:iTv;v4  viic  jjiusenis  made  by  the 


I 


OCEAN     AND     WI LDE  rnes  g.  75 

captain  who  had  me   conceTlpd      TI,« , 

.1,     .  .1.        .  Lunceaiea.     ihey  amounted   to 

about  three  hundred  livres    ,vhich   t  ^;il        1 

remv      All.l.-        u  •  '  ""'^"  ^  ^"'  endeavor  to 

tTwhe  1  T  ""^  '>"'''^'''  ^  '™»  ^""t  '»  Manhat- 
tan where  the  Governor  of  the  country  resides  He 
received  me  very  kindly,  gave  me  clothes,  and  pass! 
ma  vessel,  which  crossed  the  ocean  in  mid-winter      ^ 

landed  at  St.  Sebastian,  but  not  after  two  shipwrecks. "  • 

Ma„i„rt:'Lt,o':'"'wn"- :t-r',''™'°  -'^  >■»-  ■•- 

marked  kindness  i„d  ,1"  m'  '''^'  "'""  '"'"'^  W""  "i* 

had  leisure  0  e^;:  'e  t'    r„°f7h  "^  "7'  "'  "'  ""™'  "o""^' 
His  observations  Zl^er^i'I'^'-TT^  "'""^  Dutch  eolony. 

™n„.,cript  .as  been  iat^^e  ^^itlt  ilui'X"  ^'  '" 

NEW   HOLLAND, 

Which  the  Dutch  call,  i„  Latin,  Novum  BcUinm  in 
fterrown  language,  Nieuw  Netherland,  that  iftos'ay 

iZ'^ZuTt '  ''T1  •'^-- ^i^^-a  Zi 

xy^w  Hjngiana.     Ihe  mouth  of  the  river    wVi,Vl, 
people  call  Nassau,  or  the  Great  North  W.^diir 
gu.sh  ,t  from  another,  which  they  call  the  So^h  S  r" 
and  from  some  maps  that  I  have  recently  seen   iTh  T' 

te'!  isSnd    wh   ?'''  ^'''"'  "'''^'^  ^-^-J '"  Manhat- 

whUt :  ilfLVsrve  ^Tr '"  "''^''''  -"  - 

a  town  to  be  built  ^iXlrbei:!':.  ZTT^-^  "' 

,,._,,  -iiuaieraam. 

♦  See  Relations,  1642-3,  p.  284. 


m 


76 


PERILS     or     Til 


E 


:  ( 


The  fort,  ^v«ch  is  at  the  point  of  the  island,  about  five 
or  six  leagues  from  the  mouth,  is  called  Fort  Amster- 
dam ;  it  has  four  regular  bastions  mounted,  with  several 
pieces  of  artillery.     All  these  bastions,  and  the  curtains 
were,  in  1643,  but  mounds,  most  of  which  had  crumbled 
away,  so  that  they  entered  the  fort  on  all  sides.     There 
were  no  ditches.     For  the  garrison  of  the  said  fort,  and 
another  which  they  had  built  still  further  up,  against 
the  incursions  of  the  savages,  their  enemies,  there  were 
sixty  soldiers.     They  were  beginning  to  face  the  gates 
and  bastions  with  stone.     Within  the  fort  there  was  a 
pretty  large  stone  church,  the  house  of  the  Governor, 
whom  they  call  Director  General,  quite  neatly  buUt  of 
brick,  the  storehouses,  and  barracks. 

On  the  Island  of  Manhatte,  and  in  its  environs,  there 
may  well  be  four  or  five  hundred  men  of  different  sects 
and  nations ;  the  Director  General  told  me  that  there 
.  were  men  of  eighteen  diflTerent  languages  ;  they  are  scat- 
tered  here  and  there  on  the  river,  above  and  below,  as  the 
beauty  and  convenience  of  the  spot  invited  each  to  set- 
tle; some,  mechanics,  however,  who  ply  their  trade,  are 
ranged  under  the  fort ;   all  the  others  were  exposed  to 
the  incursions  of  the  natives,  who,  in  the  jear  1643, 
while  I  was  there,  actually  killed  some  two  score  Hol- 
landers, and  burnt  many  houses  and  barns  full  of  wheat. 
The  river,  which  is  vary  straight,  and  runs  due  north 
and  south,  is  at  least  ?  league  broad  before  the  fort. 
Ships  lie  at  anchor  in  a  bay  which  forms  the  other  side 
of  the  island,  and  can  be  defended  from  the  fort. 

Shortly  before  I  arrived  there,  three  large  ships  of 
three  hundred  tons  each  had  come  to  load  wheat ;  two 
found  cargoes,  the  third  could  not  be  loaded,  because 


OCEAN     AND     WILDEBNESS.  „ 

the  savages  had  burnt  a  part  of  their  „am      Tl, 
ships   came   from  the   W«»  T  a-  ,  ^  ^*"« 

^*xnisces,    Mennonxsts.    etc       Miru^^ 
one  comes  to  settle  in  the  country  thev  lenri  V     u    "^^ 
cows,  etc-  thcv  »;       k-         ™' '"^^ '«""  him  horses, 

-turns  ^^'soonTs  t  L  .""  '~""°"^'  ""  "^  ^"^"^^  he 
ten  .ears.  Tp!,  ^  T^^'C  T  '^"•'''  ^- 
tenth  of  the  produ'cewhiJhhT::;;""'  ''°"^^^'  '"« 

I^ver.  whicrtte fZ      I  *!,  ''"^^''^  (Connecticut) 
theE'    ifr   TheV     r^r'^*'^'^'^««°  them  and 

them,  lol,?itt  trtLtr?  "^T 
asknothine  r.ifh»r  ti,      j         ,®'^  the  Hollanders,  who 
unng,  rather  than  depend  on  Enslish  T„,^,      i. 

exact  rents,  and  would  fain  be  absolute      On!^*^''  T. 
side,  southward,  toward  Vir^2   Tr    ■  ""^  °**'^ 

-hich  they  call'the  S^th  K":.''^  "'''^"^" 
there  is  also  a  Dutch  sett  W  bmhe  f"'/  T  "'^•='' 
at  its  mouth,  extremely  wruTuid  .  I" '"'''  °"^ 
men.     It  is  believed  ITJu      ^o        '''*  '=^'"»'»  «"d 

hy  some  AmslS  m    cW ':i?  "^  '^'^-' 
that  the  West  Ind,„  r  ,'  ^ho  are  not  satisfied 

commerce        the!  p^'l     "''  ^""^  ^"J^^  'J'  *« 

.'oMmineisrepI^edThavfblTu?^™^''^- 

See,  in  the  work  of  the  Sieur  H.  T  .,.  -*  -  - 
ta^e  and  chapter  on  Ke.  BelgiCaTVnr^t 

7* 


78 


PERILS     OP     THE 


ne  to 
*^ere  is 


calls  it,  or  the  map  "Nova  Anglia,  Novu  Belgium  et 
Virginia.'* 

It  is  about  forty  years  since  the  HolIanrVM-^ 
these  parts.     The  fort  was    begun  in  tht     r, 
they  began  to  settle  about  twenty  years  ago  an('     ...  ., 
already  some  little  commerce  with  Virgim,:  u»u  New 
.England. 

The  first  comers  found  lands  fit  for  use,  previously 
cleared  by  the  savages,  who  formerly  had  fields  here. 
Those  who  came  later  have  cleared  the  woods,  which  are 
mostly  of  oak.  The  soil  is  good.  Deer  hunting  is 
abundant  in  the  fall.  There  are  some  houses  built  of 
stone ;  hme  they  make  of  oyster  shells,  great  heaps  of 
which  are  found  here,  made  formerly  by  the  savages, 
who  subsisted  in  part  by  that  fishery. 

The  climate  is  very  mild.  Lying  at  forty  and  two- 
thirds  degrees,  there  are  many  European  fruits,  as  ap- 
ples, pears  and  cherries.  I  reached  there  in  October, 
and  found,  even  then,  a  considerable  quantity  of  peaches' 
Ascending  the  river  to  the  forty-third  degree,  you 
meet  the  second  Dutch  settlement,  which  the  tide 
reaches,  but  does  not  pass.  Ships  of  a  hundred  and 
twenty  tons  can  come  up  to  it. 

There  are  two  things  in  this  settlement,  (which  is 
called-  Rensselaerswyck,  as  if  to  say  settlement  of  Rens- 
selaers,  who  is  a  rich  Amsterdam  merchant)— first  a 
miserable  little  fort  called  Fort  Orange,  built  of  lo-s 
with  four  or  five  pieces  of  Breteuil  cannon,  and  as  many 
swivels.  This  has  been  reserved,  and  is  maintained  by 
the  West  India  Company.  This  fort  was  formerly  on 
an  island  in  the  river;  it  is  now  on  the  main  land, 
towards  the  Hiroquois,  a  little  above  the  said  island. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS 


79 


•ne  to 
.  t'15 ; 

*^ere  is 
i  New 


),  you 

tide 

[  and 


Second  a  colony  sent  here  by  thi,  Een.,elaer.,  who  i, 
the  Patroon.  Thi.  colony  U  composed  of  .^0^  a  hun- 
dred  persons,  who  reside  in  some  twenty-fivc  or  thirty 
houses,  buUt  along  the  river,  as  each  found  most  convl^ 

r  M-  .^  ^""""^^  *">"'"  "™'  ">«  Futoon',  agent  j 

th  Mm.ster  has  his  apart,  in  which  service  is  performed 
Ucre  IS  also  a  kind  of  Bailiff  here,  whom  they  call  the 
Seneschal  who  administers  justice.  Their  houses  1 
merely  of  boards,  and  thatched,  with  n  .  ■.,.  son  work 
except  the  chimneys.  The  forest  furnishmg  many  large 
pmes  they  make  boards  by  means  of  their  mills,  which 
they  have  here  for  the  purpose. 

They  found  some  pieces  of  ground  already,  which 
he  savages  had  formerly  cleared,  and  in  wW  h  they 

Xcht'T     °^''  '"'  '^''''  ^"^  ^-  *-  Worses,  of 

Thi   In      ^v  ^  """'"' '"  ''y  ™^'  ^'^i^''  -«  barren. 
Th.s  obhges  them  to  separate,  and  they  already  occupy 

two  or  three  leagues  of  country.  -     ^ 

Trade  is  free  to  all;  this  gives  the  Indians  all  things 

cheap  each  of  the  Hollanders  outbidding  Us  neighbor 

and^  be,„g  satisfied,  provided  he  can  gL  .oZ'Z^ 

This  settlement  is  not  more  than  twenty  leagues  from 
he  Ag„,ehronons,  (Mohawks)  who  can  be  reached  b^ 
land  or  water,  as  the  river  on  which  the  IroouJs  l,t 
Ms  mto  that  which  passes  by  the  Dutch,  but  therl  are' 
many  low  rapids  and  a  fall  of  a  short  half  league  wher" 
the  canoe  must  be  carried. 

irarity.  '  """"  ""« aase,  aa  apple  was  a 


#-:<^   , 


80 


P^EILS     OB*     THE 


There  are  many  nations  between  the  two  Dutch  set- 
tlements which  are  about  thirty  German  leagues  apart; 
that  IS,  about  fifty  or  sixty  French  leagues.     The  Loups* 
whom  the  Iroquois  call  Agotsagenens,  are  the  nearest  to 
Kensselaerswyck  and  Fort  Orange.     War  breaking  out 
some  years  ago  between  the  Iroquois  and  the  Loups, 
ttte  Dutch  joined  the  latter  against  the  former,  but  four 
men  havmg  been  taken  and  burnt,  they  made  peace, 
femce  then,  .ome  nations  near  the  sea  having  killed  some 
Hollanders  of  the  most  distant  settlement,  the  Holland- 
ers killed  one  hundred  and  fifty  Indians,  men,  women 
and   chidren.     They  having   then,  at   intervals,  killed 
lorty  Hollanders,   burnt  many  houses,  and  committed 
ravages,   estimated,  at   the   time   that   I  was  there    at 
200,000  liv.  (two  hundred  thousand  livres,)  they  raised 
troops  in  New  England.     Accordingly,  in  the  beginning 
ot  wmter,  the  grass  being  trampled  down,  and  some 
snow   on  the  ground,  they  gave  them  chase  with  six 
hundred  men,  keeping  two  hundred  always  on  the  move 
and  constantly  reHeving  one  another ;  so  that  the  In' 
dians,  shut  up  in  a  large  Island,  and  unable  to  flee  easily 
on  account  of  their  women  and  children,  were  cut  to 
pieces,    to   the  number  of  sixteen  hundi-ed,  including 
women  and  children.     This  obliged  the  rest  of  the  In- 
dians to  make  peace,  which  still  continues.     This  occur- 
red in  1643  and  1644. 

Three  Rivers  iin  New  France,  Aug.  3,  1646. 

♦These  are  the  Mohegane,  whom  Champlain,  the  first  to  know  them 
calls  the.  "Mayganathicoiae,"  which  means  -'Wolf  tribe,"  plTl^r^ 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


The 


81 


New  VoT°'  °''!!°  '»™'"'»'3''«  <»««  can  be  shortly  told.  He  le,- 
^l^ClltZr  7.'-'L^"k  on  the  at'h  of  Nov^h':; 
almost  faUe";!  the  h^n/"-  '"'"  ,^""""'"'.  i„  England,  having 
™.  entered  by IbL tnd  fV!  f- "T' "    ""^"■-''arf 

Hawng  seen  a'prener^mt  i,e  S'  n'ntT   •"  "J'  ,■"'  "'"  "»'■ 
taken  for  a  be2i!ar  >r,«^l T  !^     "^      ""'  *"''  "'°"«''  »*  first 

passage  to  the  X^rcl^""?  K  I  '^'  "''^""'"•'  ""O  °>«»'-'' 
St  Pol  de  LeoVo',  rari  r    !  f  """^"^  ''°'™™  »™'  ""0 

tion  by  reoeiring  c"^"2n  „^^=S  T^'  *"  """''^  >■''  ''-°- 

A  ^od  mercLrtror  r  to  kI  „''  """r  ■■*« »-"  ^^p"---- 

himself  at  the  college  of  hi    orl  '  "f"""™'  ""^  P'-^'""^ 

Canada.    The  HectT  who  ..  "".  """  "''°  '"'"'8''*  "^"^  «•<»» 

the  st«nge,/as  sot ;  hrhTi'?™^  "  ''''  '^^'  '"'^'J  '«  »«» 
question  was   as  ,0  Fat?  T  ™.'  ^^"^"^    ^'■"-'  »'•  ««' 

knowhimwellCdf^     .1     *""'•    " »»  ^O"  know  hin,  ?  ••    M 

*e  MroirLrh^t^:^:  "^  o^  ■>■•'  -p'-  by 

Is  he  still  alive  ?  »    ..  He  is  alive -'»T,.  Y      ^"  ™™""'  °"™  i"    ' 
now  speaking  to  you  "  and  he  Jl  T    T;  ^°*'"''  "  ^'  ''  ^"^-  ">«  " 
ed  Superior  I  ask  uL  bTcltg  """^  *'  *■"'  °"'»  '«•»->'- 

hi  ":;e:r;i« :  ^r  n  '■"%°^^-''  "^"--^  - 

that  he  should  come  to  PaTftaV  st  "t?  ^''*™'  '™  '•""'^"»* 
ferer.  AH  this  was  paiuMto  wl  td  f  *'  "  "'"*"■"  '  ^* 
summoned,  that  he  proceeded  to^i.  r  .  T,""'  ""  '^"'  '™^' 
to  Canada ,  but  one'Zg  ptve^^d  ^'"^  "'  '°"^''  ""  '«™ 
han^s  which  had  been  refe^^Tv  .1  '^''"'"■"^-  T''^  """■g^d 
r«.nce,  were  an  obs  "cle  IH?,^  ff      ^^  *'  ^■«'™  ""1  ^ourt  of 

A-tar  A  dispe„sari?LtrK^««„^^''«-.°'*» 
See  of  Peter,  a  Pope  noted  especiallvfnrVh  ,  ^  ™  ""  "  *« 
introduced  against  any  symntor„f  ™  Kr  """S""  '"'^'  ""ch  he 
servants  of  God,  until  thSldv"  IT"^"""  '"  ">«  -i^P^rt^i 
i»ed  in  the  long  and  rnn^tekLT  T  '''^ '"'"  '^^  ^^  ^«»- 
when  the  appLti„„  oTpaZ  ?  "^' '^'^  "»''<'°'-«»-    ^et, 

learned  the  story  of  his  Lffe>^„     'TT  ""^  ''"''■"«'■  »■">  he  had 


ii 


S2 


PERILS     OF     THE 


III 

if',' 


brink  of  ruin,  but  the  Governor  fortunately  brought  the  Mohawks  to 
offer  peace.  It  was  concluded  at  Three  Rivers  on  the  12th  of  July, 
1645.  Father  Jogues,  though  stationed  at  Montreal,  was  present, 
and  an  anxious  observer  of  the  state  of  feeling.  The  treaty  was  at 
last  confirmed  on  the  Mohawk,  and  again  renewed  on  the  St.  Law- 
rence, with  a  request  for  a  missionary.  Conscious  that  all  would 
turn  to  him,  he  wrote  to  a  friend  the  following  oft-cited  letter  :— 

"Alas,  my  dear  Father,  when  shall  I  begin  to  love 
and  serve  him  whose  love  for  us  had  no  beginning  ? 
When  shall  I  begin  to  give  myself  entirely  to  him,  who 
has  given  himself  unreservedly  to  me  ?  Although  I 
am  very  miserable,  and  have  so  misused  the  graces  our 
Lord  has  done  me  in  this  country,  I  do  not  despair,  as 
he  takes  care  to  render  me  better  by  giving  me  new 
occasions  to  die  to  self,  and  unite  myself  inseparably  to 
him. 

"  The  Iroquois  have  come  to  make  some  presents  to 
our  Governor  to  ransom  some  prisoners  he  held,  and  to 
treat  of  peace  with  him  in  the  name  of  the  whole 
country.  It  has  been  concluded  to  the  great  joy  of  the 
French.     It  will  last  as  long  as  pleases  the  Almighty. 

"  To  maintain  it,  and  see  what  can  be  done  for  the 
instruction  of  these  tribes,  it  is  here  deemed  expedient 
to  send  some  Father.  I  have  reason  to  think  I  thall  be 
sent,  having  some  knowledge  of  the  Lnguage  and 
country.  You  see  what  need  I  have  of  u-e  powerful 
aid  of  prayers,  being  amidst  these  savages,  i  will  have 
to  remain  among  them,  almost  withoi  *^^  libertv  to  pray, 
without  mass,  without  sacraments,  p  :■..  be  responsible 
for  every  accident  among  the  Iroquois,  French,  Algon- 
quins,  and  others.  But  what  ^  I  say  <  My  hope  is  in 
God,  who  needs  not  us  to  acconiplish  his  designs.     We 


^^.". 


OCEAN     AND     WILDEEN1S3S.  8S 

yt  endeavor  to  be  tohfal  to  him,  and  not  spoil  his 

S  tm  now  l"      "','  *''•  ^""""S  ^^   -  --"'hed  a 
!.  M  r         r^  "' '"''  ''^^''  '°  ^«"«  Wm  better. 

emp  oy  d      ,h.  mission,  Uo  et  non  r.Z:  but  I  Z 
be  happy,  .four  Lord  will  compete  the  sacrifice  where 

in  that  land    the  earnest  of  what  I  would  rive  from 
every  ve,n  of  my  body  and  my  heart.  ^ 

r  ht  ul  °"  ^"^  *'"'''"'  "'^^  ^^  P"-hased  them 
m  h,s  blood,  open  to  them  the  door  of  Ms  gospel  as 
wall  as  to  the  four  allied  nations  near  them      ^^' 

bly  to  S:         ""'*"'  P"^  '^"^  '»  ""''«  »«  --para- 

"Isaac  Jogues,  iS.  J." 

He  received  .he  a„n„u„cen.ent  ,t  .Montreal,  .„d  „„te  a,  f„„„ws : 
"Reverend  Father: 

whth  Td  bi::  TL^r  •"" '"  "'^  ^^""^^^* 

^""'  '^"^  l^emg  no  canoe  to  carry  our 

«*„,  a„. , .  „„„,„„  pLt^::,°  2  tt".  i"'i::r""'«-' 


84 


PERILS     OF     THE 


letters.     I  chose  this  time,  because  the  Indians,  being  at 
the^  chase,  allow  us  to  enjoy  a  greater  silence. 

"Would  you  believe,  that  on  opening  your  letter  my 
heart  was  at  first  seized  with  a  kind  of  fear,  that  what 
I  desire,  and  what  my  soul  should  earnestly  desire, 
might  arrive  ?  Poor  nature,  mmdful  of  the  past,  trem- 
bled;  but  our  Lord,  by  his  goodness,  has  given,  and 
will  again  restore  it  calm. 

"  Yes,  Father,  I  will  all  that  our  Lord  wills,  and  I 
will  It  at  the  peril  of  a  thousand  lives.  Oh '  how  I 
should  regret  to  lose  so  glorious  an  occasion,  when  it 
may  depend  only  on  me  that  some  souls  be  saved !  I 
hope  that  his  goodness,  which  has  not  abandoned  me  in 
the  hour  of  trial,  will  aid  me  still.  He  and  I  are  able 
to  trample  down  every  difficulty  that  can  oppose  the 
project. 

"  It  is  much  to  be  ♦  in  medio  nationis  prav^,'  with- 
out mass,  without  altar,  without  confession,  without  sac 
raments,  but  his  holy  will  and  divine  Providence  so 
will  it. 

"  He  who,  by  his  holy  grace,  preserved  us  without 
these  helps,  for  eighteen  or  twenty  months,  will  not 
refuse  us  the  same  favor,  for  we  do  not  turust  ourselves 
into  this  work,  but  undertaking  this  voyage  solely  to 
please  him,  without  consulting  all  the  repugnances  of 
nature. 

"As  to  all  these  comings  and  goings  of  flbe  Iroquois, 
what  I  can  say  is,  that  I  see  very  few  fro-,  the  first  two 
towns ;  yet  it  is  with  them  chiefly  that  we  are  concerned 
as  the  last  killed  were  of  these  villages.  Scarcely  any 
have  come  except  from  the  last  village,  where  Couture 
was,  and  they  profess,  at  least,  in  words,  not  to  como 


i 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  85 

as  warriors  in  thesp  narfo      t*.   • 

fi.        1        ,  P  "®-     ^^  IS   not,   however    tm-fl, 

sion,  c?   <?;?,,,/e;;^  ^ewcrw.     I  will  therphv  K« 

debtor  a«  T  «        1       1  cnereby  become  your 

vou    R.  u   '"^^  ""   ^o  -"^y  S™»nd3-     I  owe 


of 


! 


!  : 


■ 


UilM 


86 


PERILS     OF     THB 


CHAPTER   III. 

ACCOUNT  OF  THE  CAPTIVITY  AND  DEATH    OF  BENE   OOUFIL. 
BT    PATHXB    ISAAO    JOODXS. 

Rene  Goupil  was  a  native  of  Angers,  who  in  the 
bloom  of  life  earnestly  asked  admission  into  our  noviti- 
ate at  Paris,  where  he  remained  some  months  with  great 
edification.     His  bodily  ailments  having  deprived  him 
of  the  happiness  of  consecrating  himself  in  the  holy  state 
of  religion  as  he  had  wished,  he  crossed  over  to  New 
France,  as  soon  as  he  grew  better,  to  serve  the  society 
there,  as  he  had  not  had  the  happiness  of  giving  himself 
to  it  in  the  old.     And  to  do  nothing  of  his  own  head, 
though  perfect  master  of  his  actions,  he  submitted  him- 
self entirely  to  the  direction  of  the  Superior  of  the  mis- 
sion, who  employed  him  for  two  whole  years  in  the 
meanest  employments  of  the  house,  which  he  discharged 
with  great  humility  and  charity.     They  also  gave  him 
the  care  of  tending  the  sick  and  wounded,  in  the  hospi- 
tal, a  post  he  filled  with  great  ability,  for  he  was  well 
skilled  in  surgery,  and  with   equal  love  and  charity, 
always  beholding  our  Lord  in  the  person  of  his  patients. 
So  sweet  an  odor  of  his  goodness  and  other  virtues  did 
he  leave  in  that  place,  that  his  memory  is  still  in  bene- 
diction there. 

As  we  descended  from  the  Hurons  in  July,  164^,  wq 


i 


OCEAK     AND     WILDERNESS.  87 

asked  the  reverend  Father  Vimont  to  let  us  take  him, 
as  Ae  Hurons  greatly  needed  a  surgeon,  and  he  con- 
sented. It  ,.ere  impossible  to  express  the  joy  of  this 
good  young  man  when  the  Superior  told  him  to  prepare 
ZlT'T     He  knew  withal  the  great  dang  rfon 

Sins ;; t  ryetTutr'  r.  '-'-^^  --" 

D  c  xrcncn,  yet  all  this  could  not  dpfpr  hir^ 

bar  of  picked  men,  fighting  otl^d  it  IT  """ 

Almost  all  the  Hurons  had  fled  into  the  wood  Id 
having  left  us,  we  were  taken      Here  V,;.      1 
strikingly  displaved    for    T  ,  "'^"^  was 

said  ..  "LhefSessS\r  JoT."  ^  ""  '^''^'''  '"> 
He  has  wished  it,  his  hi  will  be  do!     n  ''™'"^'  '*' 
it.  I  cherish  it,  I  embract  Sh  ilVhet?. "'  wTf 
the  enemy  pursued  the  fugitives,  I  eo'n  I'd  hi^^nd 
gave  him  absolution,  not  knowing  what  was  to  W  I 
after  our  capture.     The  enemv  L„  "' 

the  chase,  fefl  on  us  ^tk^Z^^l^T^''  f "" 
tore  out  our  naUs  and  crunched  our  ZTJ'^^ 
he  endured  with  great  patience  and  courage 

His  presence  of  mind,  in  so  distressing  'an  accident 
was  shown,  especially  in  his  aiding  me  in  l^irof  t ' 

pnsoners,  who  were  not  yet  Christians.    As  I  was  in- 


88 


PERILS     OF     THE 


structing  them  separately,  and  as  they  came  to  me,  he 
reminded  me  that  a  poor  old  man  named  Ond«terraon, 
might  well  be  one  of  those  to  be  killed  on  the  spot,  it 
being  their  custom  always  to  sacrifice  some  one  to  the 
heat  of  their  rage.     I  mstructed  this  old  man  carefully 
while  the  enemy  were  busied  with  the  division  of  the 
booty  of  twelve  canoes,  a  part  of  which  were  laden  with 
necessaries  for  our  Huron  Fathers.     The   spoil  being 
divided,  they  killed  the  poor  old  man  almost  at  the  very 
moment  when  I  had  given  him  a  new  birth.     During 
our  march  to  the  enemy's  country,  we  had  the  additional 
consolation    of  being  together,  and   here,  I   witnessed 
many  virtues. 

On  the  way,  he  was  always  absorbed  in  God.     His 
words  and  conversation  were  all  in  perfect  submissive- 
ness  to  the  orders  of  Divine  Providence,  and  a  volun- 
tary  acceptance  of  the   death   which   God    sent   him. 
He  offered  himself  to  him  as  a  holocaust,  to  be  reduced 
to  ashes  in  the  fires  of  the  Iroquois,  which  that  good 
Father  should  enkindle.     In  all  and  by  all,  he  sought 
means  to  please  him.     One  day,  it  was  soon  after  our 
capture,  he  told  me,  while  still  on  the  way:  "Father! 
God  has  always  given  me  a  great  desire  to  consecrate 
myself  to  his  holy  service  by  the  vows  of  religion  in  his 
holy  society  ;  till  now  my  sins  have  rendered  me  un- 
worthy of  this   grace ;  yet  I  hope  that  our  Lord  will 
accept  the  ofl^ering  I  wish  to  make  him  now,  allow  me  to 
take,  in  the  best  manner  I  can,  the  vows  of  the  society  in 
the  presence  of  my  God,  and  before  you."     Having  per- 
mitted him,  he  pronounced  them  with  great  devotion. 

Wounded  as  he  was,  he  dressed  the  wounds  of  others, 
not  only  of  the  prisoners,  but  even  of  such  of  the  enemy 


I 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  89 

as  had  received  any  wound  in  the  combat.     He  also 

b  ed  a  «ck  Iroquois,  and  did  it  all  with  as  much  cha  tv 

aa  ^  he  were  doing  it  to  his  dearest  friends.  ^ 

H.S  hum.hty,  and  the  obedience  he  paid  to  his  can 

ors  confounded  me.     The  Iroquois.  wL  ha^  u^  b7h 

mthe.r  canoe,  told  me  to  take  a  paddle,  and  use   t 

Aev  told  h°  '\     f'  '  "°"''  "»'•     ^o"^  «-  "ft-, 
they  told  h.m  to  do  ,t,  and  he  immediately  began  to 

paddle;  but  when  he  perceived  that  the  IndiLs  wUhed 

to  co,„peI  me  to  do  so  after  his  example,  he  beLId  ml 

pardon.     At  times,  on  the  way,  I  su tested  1\ 

thoughts  of  flight,  as  the  liberty'^iven  f  So^d^d  S 

Sr:  TT''-  ^"^  "^  °^"  P-''  I  -'  no" 
Pri    n  rs      r         n  '"'  '"''"'^■'°"'  °^  «™  «->" 

ent  relv  to  tb  ^r.  "'"'  '"  '*'  '^^«"'"g  ^mself 
entirely  to  the  w.U  of  our  Lord,  who  inspired  him  with 
no  such  thought.  " 

On  the  Lake,  (Champluin,)  we  met  two  hundred  Iro- 
^e  fort,  they  covered  us  with  stripes,  drenched  us  in 
oy  the  devil.     AH   these  outrages  and  cruelties  he  en- 

tiifbir" ''''"''  -'  -'-'^ '-  "^-  -^0 

On  enteri.^  the  first  town  where  we  were  so  cruelly 
^eated,  he  showed  extraordinary  patience  and  mildness 
Having  fallen  under  the  hail  of  blows,  of  clubs,  and  iron 
rods  poured  on  us,  and  unable  to  rise,  ha  was  carrTed 
-  It  were,  half  dead  on  the  scaffold,  where  we  wej 
areadyintl.e  middle  of  the  town,  but  in  so  pitiab  e 
state  that  he.would  have  moved  cruelty  itself  to  om! 
passion;  he  was  all  livid  with  brui.es,  and  in  his  face 

8* 


90 


PERILS     OF     THE 


we  could  distinguish  nothing  but  the  white  of  his  eyes ; 
yet,  he  was  the  more  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  angels  as 
he  was  more  disfigured  and  like  him,  of  whom  it  is 
said :  "  We  have  seen  him  as  a  leper,"  etc.  "  There 
was  in  him  neither  comeliness  nor  beauty." 

Scarcely  had  he,  or  even  we,  recovered  breath,  when 
they  came  and  gave  him  three  blows  on  the  shoulders 
with  a  heavy  club,  as  they  had  done  to  us.  After  cut- 
ting off  a  thumb  from  me,  as  the  most  important,  they 
turned  to  him,  and  cut  off  his  right  thumb  at  the  first 
joint.  During  this  cruel  operation,  he  t  )nstantly  re- 
peated, "  Jesus,  Mary,  Joseph."  During  the  six  days 
that  we  were  exposed  to  all  those  who  chose  to  maltreat 
us,  he  displayed  extraordinary  mildness ;  his  breast  was 
all  burnt  by  the  live  coals  and  ashes,  which  the  boys 
threw  on  his  body,  when  he  was  tied  down  on  the  ground 
at  night.  Nature  gave  me  more  dexterity  than  him  in 
escaping  some  of  these  pains. 

«  After  our  life  was  granted  us,  just  after  we  had  been 
warned  to  prepare  to  be  burned,  he  fell  sick  in  great  want 
of  everything,  especially  of  food,  for  he  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  theirs.  Here  truly  it  may  be  said,  «  Non  cibus 
utilis  segro."  I  could  not  relieve  him,  being  also  sick, 
and  not  having  one  finger  sound,  or  whole. 

But  I  must  hasten  to  his  death,  which  wants  nothing 
to  be  that  of  a  martyr. 

After  we  had  been  six  weeks  in  the  country,  as  con- 
fusion arose  in  the  councils  of  the  Iroquois,  some  of 
whom  were  for  sending  us  back,  we  lost  all  hope,  which 
in  me  had  never  been  sanguine,  of  seeing  Three  Rivers 
that  year.  We  consoled  one  another  then  at  this  dis- 
posal of  Providence,  aud  prepared  for  all  he  should 


1 


OCEAN     AND     WiLDERNEgs. 


91 


I 


ordam  ,„  our  regard.     He  did  not  ,ce  the  danger  we 
were  m  so  clearly ,  I  ,»„  it  better.     This  made  mo  often 
tell  h,m  to  hold  himself  in  readiness.     Accordingly,  one 
day,  when  m  our  mental  pain,  we  had  gone  out  of  the 
town  to  pray  more  becomingly  and  undisturbed  by  noise 
two  young  men  came  after  us  and  told  us  to  return  home' 
I  had  some  presentiment  of  what  was  to  happen;   and 
toldh,m:  "My  dear  brother,  let  us  recommend  ourselves 
to  our  Lord  and  to  our  good  mother,  the  Blessed  Virgin  • 
these  men  have  some  evil  design,  as  I  think."     We  had 
a  Uttle  before  offered  ourselves  to  our  Lord  with  much 
devotion,  beseeching  him  to  accept  our  lives  and   blood, 
and  unite  them  to  his  life  and  blood  for  the  salvation  of 
these  poor  tribes.     We  were  returning  then  towards  the 
town   recmng  our  beads,  of  which  we  had  already  said 
four  decades,  and  having  stopped  near  the  gate  of  the 
town  to  see  what  they  would  say,  one  of  these  two   Iro- 
quois drew  an  axe  which  he  had  hidden  under  his  blanket, 
Wm  "^t"  J^^.:""-  »"  *e  head  as  he  stood  befor^ 
h.m  ;  he  fell  stiff  „n  his  face  on  the  ground,  uttering  the 
holy  name  of  Jesus,  for  we  had  often  reminded  each 
other  to  close  our  voice  and  life  with  that  holy  name. 
I  turned  at  the  blow,  and  seeing  the  reeking  hatchet,  fell 
on  my  knees  to  receive  the  blow  that  was  to  unite  me  to 
my  loved  companion,  but  as  they  delayed  I  rose,  ran  to 
him,  as  he  lay  expiring  near  me.     They  gave  him  two 
more  Hows  on  the  head,  and  extinguished  life,  but  not 
before  I  had  given  him  absolution,  which,  since  our  cap- 
tmty,  I  had  given  him  regularly  after  his  confession 
every  other  day. 

It  Tas  the  -_  day  of  September,  the  feast  of  St. 
Misuael,  that  this  ajigel  in  innocence,  and  martyr  of 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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98 


PERILS     OF     THE 


iiti 


Christ,  gave  his  life  for  him,  who  had  given   him  his. 
They  commanded  me  to  return  to  my   cabin,   where  I 
awaited  during  the  rest  of  the  day  and  the  next  the  same 
treatment.     It  was  the  belief  of  all  that  I  would  not  wait 
long  as  he  had  begun  it,  and  in  fact  for  several  days  they 
came  to  kill  me,  but  our  Lord  prevented  it  by  ways, 
which  would  be  too  long  to   explain.     Early  the  next 
morning,  I  did  not  fail  to  start  out  to  inquire  where  they 
had  thrown  that  blessed  body,  for  I  wished  to  inter  it, 
cost  what  it  might.     Some  Iroquois,  who  had  a  wish  to 
save  me,  said,  "  Thou  hast  no  sense  ;  thou  seest  that  they 
seek  thee  everywhere  to  kill  thee,  and  thou  goest  out 
still ;  thou  wilt  go  to  seek  a  body  already  half  corrupted, 
which  has  been  dragged  far  from  here.     Seest  thou  not,' 
those  young  men  going  out,  who  will  kill  thee,  when  thou 
art  past  the  palisade  ?  "     This  did  not  stop  me,  and  our 
Lord  gave  me  courage  enot.gh  to  be  willing  to  die  in 
that  office  of  charity.     I  go,  I  seek,  and  by  the  help  of 
aL  Algonquin  taken,  and  now  a  real  Iroquois,  I  find  it. 
After  he  had  been  killed,  the  children  had  stripped  him* 
and,  tying  a  cord  around  his  neck,  dragged  him  to  a  tor- 
rent which  runs  at  the  foot   of  their  town.     The   dogs 
had  already  gnawed  a  pait  of  his  thighs.     At  this  spec- 
tacle, I  could  not  withhold  my  tears.     I  took  the  body 
and,  aided  by  the  Algonquin,  I  sunk  it  in  the  water  and 
covered  it  with  large  stones,  to  hide  it,  intending  to  re- 
turn the  next  day  with  a  spade,  when  there  was^'no  one 
near,  and  dig  a  grave  and  inter  it.     I  thought  the  body 
well  hidden,  but  perhaps  some  one  saw  us,  especially  of 
the  youth,  and  took  it  up. 

The  next  day,  as  they  sought  to  kill  me,  my  aunt  sent 
me  to  her  field  to  escape  as  I  think  ;  this  compelled  me 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


93 


to  defer  it  till  the  following  day.     It  rained  all  night,  so 
that  the  torrent  was  extremely  swelled  ;  I  borrowed  a 
hoe  in  another  cabin,  the  better  to  conceal  my  design, 
but,  on  approaching  the  place,  could  not  find  the  blessed 
deposit ;  I  entered  the  water  already  quite  cold,  I  go  and 
come ;  I  sound  with  my  feet  to  see  whether  the  water 
had  not  raibed  and  carried    off    the    body,    but    I    saw 
nothing.     How  many  tears  I  shed,  which  fell  in  the  tor- 
rent, while  I  sang  as  I  could  the  psalms  which  the  church 
chants  for  the  dead !     After  all,  I  found  nothing,  and  a 
woman  known    to    me    who    passed  by,  seeing  me  in 
trouble,  told  me,  when  I  asked  her  whether  she  did  not 
know  what  had  been    done  with  it,  that  it  had   been 
dragged  to  the  river  which  is  a  quarter  of  a  league  from 
there,  and  with  which  I  was  not  acquainted.     This  was 
false,  the  young  men  had  taken  it  up  and  draggeu  it  to 
a  neighboring  wood,  where,  during  the  fall  and  winter, 
it  was  the  food  of  the  dog,  the  crow,    and    the    fox. 
When  I  was  told  in  the  spring  that  he  had  been  dragged 
there,  I  went  several   times  without  finding  anything  ; 
at  last,  the  fourth  time  I  found  his  head,  and  some  half 
gnawed  bones,  which  I  interred,  intending  to  carry  them 
off,  if  taken  back  to  Three  Rivers  as  was  then  talked  of. 
Repeatedly  did  I  kiss  them  as  the  bones  of  a  martyr  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

I  give  him  this  title,  rot  only  because  he  was  killed 
by  the  enemies  of  God,  and  his  church,  in  the  exercise 
of  an  ardent  love  for  his  neighbor,  putting  himself  in  evi- 
dent peril  for  the  love  of  God,  but  particularly  because 
he  was  killed  for  prayer,  and  expressly  for  the  Holy 
Cross.  He  was  in  a  cabin  where  he  prayed  daily,  wliich 
scarcely  pleased  a  superstitious  old  man    there.     One 


94 


PERILS     OF     THE 


I' 


I 


I 


day,  seeing  a  little  child  three  or  four  years  old  in  the 
cabin,  from  an  excess  of  devotion  and  a  love  of  the  cross, 
and  in  a  simpHcity  which  we,  who  are  more  prudent 
according  to  the  flesh  would  not  have  had,  he  to  :)k  off 
his  cap,  and  putting  it  on  the  child's  head,  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross  on  his  body.  The  old  man  seeing  it  ordered 
a  young  man  in  his  cabin,  who  was  startmg  on  a  war 
party,  to  kill  him,  r^nd  he  obeyed  the  order  as  we  have 
seen. 

The  mother  of  the  child  herself,  in  a  march  which  I 
had  made  with  her,  told  me  that  he  had  been  killed  for 
that  sign  of  the  cross,  and  the  old  man  who  had  given 
the  order  to  kill  him,  invited  me  one  day  to  his  cabin, 
to  dinner ;  but,  when  I  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  be- 
fore beginning,  he  said,  «  There  is  what  we  hate ;  that 
is  what  we  killed  thy  comrade  for,  and  will  kill  thee 
too.  Our  neighbors,  the  Europeans,  do  not  make  it." 
Sometimes,  too,  as  I  prayed  on  my  knees  in  hunting 
time,  they  told  me  that  they  hated  that  way  of  doing, 
and  had  killed  the  other  Frenchman  for  it,  and  would 
kill  me  too,  when  I  got  back  to  the  village. 

I  beg  pardon  of  your  Reverence,  for  the  precipitation 
with  which  I  v/rite  this,  and  my  want  of  respect  in  so 
doing.  Excuse  me,  if  you  please ;  I  feared  to  miss  this 
opportunity  of  discharging  a  debt  I  should  long  since 
have  discharged. 


OCEAN      AND      WILDERNESS. 


95 


CHAPTER  IV. 


» 


DEATH  OF  FATHiai  JOOT7E8. 

he  should  go  first  as  ambassador,  and  was  accordingly  sent  with 
Mr    Bourdon,  an  officer  in  the  employ  of  the  colony.-     Of  J.is 

ence  till  1800,  when  it  was,  with  other  papers  belonging  to  .U  Canada 
Jesuits,  seized  by  the  British  government.  It  has'nol  disappeTed! 
The  Relation  which  doubtless  followed  it,  ,says  that  they  left  Three 
Rivers  on  the  16th  of  May,  1646,  with  four  Mohawks  and  two  AW 

tr29th  oTm  '  ''\'ri'  ?^  ^""^'  LakeChamplain,and,on 
the  29th  of  May,  reached  the  beautiful  lake  below  it.    Its  Iroquois 

as  It  was  the  eve  of  Corpus  Christi,  the  festival  instituted  by  the 
Church,  to  honor  Christ's  presence  in  the  Holy  Eucharist,  the  mis- 
sionary gave  It  the  name,  which  it  bore  for  more  than  a  cenlury,  Lac 
^int  Sacrement,  or  Lake  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  t 

Continuing  their  march,  they  came  to  Ossarague.  a  fishing  station, 
on  the  Maurice,  or  Upper  Hudson,  which  they  descended  to  Fort 
Orange.    When  the  missionary  had  here  repaid  his  debt  of  gratitude, 

*  As  the  missionary  was  about  to  set  out,  an  Algonquin  chief  advised  him 
to  lay  aside  his  religious  habit.  His  reason  w«  sLking;  t t^mphfi^ 
perfectly  what  ha.  been  called  ''the  hideous  face  of  ChristiaLity.'^S^re 
is  nothing,"  said  the  Algonquin  chiefs,  "nothing  more  renuisive  at ««? 
than  this  doctrine,  that  seems  to  exterminate  all  that  mntrd  dele"t' 
Tour  long  gown  preaches  it  as  strongly  as  your  lips;  leave  it,  and  goTn  a 
short  coat.  Bourdon,  thus  associated  with  the  life  of  Father  JoZeslnL 
married  in  the  family  to  which  Henry  do  Courov  Esa    thJZ  **  J^*"' j''**^- 

t  It  would  need  but  a  slight  ohmge  t^  mik.  L.k»  Qeonre   1*1,.  I„,™„ 
^i  3u,e.,  Ita  great  di=«,„r.r  d.,„,es  it,  better  «,„  .  w^  ^g? 


96 


PERILS     OF     THE 


to  his  generous  benefactors,  the  embassy  proceeded  to  the  Mohawk. 
The  first  castle  was  reached  on  the  7th  of  June  ;  its  name  had  been 
changed  from  Ossemenon,  to  OneSgeSre.*     Here  Jogues  was  wel- 
comed as  a  friend ;  a  council  of  Sachems  was  soon  convened ;   he 
delivered  the  presents  of  the  Governor,  and,  in  a  discourse,  still  pre- 
served, urged  them  to  thoughts  of  peace.     He  was  heard  with  atten- 
tion, and  responded   to  in  a  similar  strain.     According  to  Indian 
custom,  he  presented  a  belt  of  wampum  to  the  tribe,  into  which  he 
had   been  incorporated.     The  Wolf  replied  that  Ondessonk  should 
ever  find  among  them  his  mat  to  rest  upon,  and  a  fire  to  warm  liim. 
Another  present  was  yet  to  be  made.    Jogues  had  remarked  among 
the  spectators,  some  Onondaga  braves,  and  to  these,  also,  he  made  a 
present,  to  smooth  the  way  for  the  French  to  their  land  of  lakes. 
This  was  cheerfully  accepted,  and  Jogues,  no  longer  a  temporal  envoy, 
turned  to  his  spiritual  avocations.     The  captive  Christians  were  soon 
visited  and  consoled,  the  sacraments  of  baptism  or  penance    conferred 
on  many  ;  but  he  could  not  delay  as  long  as  his  zeal  desired.    The 
Iroquois  pressed  his  departure,  and,  on  the  16th,  he  left  their  castles 
for  the  St.  Lawrence.     As  he  expected  to  return  speedily,  he  left  a 
box  containing  his  little  missionary  furniture  ;  the  Mohawks  showed 
a  disinclination  to  receive  it,  but,  as  he  opened  it  in  their  presence,  he 
thought  their  suspicions  dispelled,  and  went  his  way. 

On  his  arrival  in  Canada,  joy,  such  as  had  not  been  kno-wn  for  years, 
quickened  every  heart,  for  all  had  been  so  suspicious  of  the  Mohawks, 
that  public  prayers  had  been  constantly  offered  for  the  missionary 
and  his  companion. 

His  immediate  return  to  the  Mohawk  was  now  expected ;  but  sud- 
denly there  came  mysterious  rumors,  and  the  Superiors  paused. 
Jogues  must  not  go.t  But,  as  the  summer  wore  on,  all  became  quiet, 
and,  yielding  to  his  entreaty,  the  Superior  permitted  him  to  depart. 
In  September,  1646,  he  left  Three  Rivers  for  the  last  time,  with 
John  Lalande,  and  some  Hurons.  As  they  went  on,  they  heard 
tidings  which  seemed  positive  as  to  the  end  of  the  peace ;  some  Hurons 
left  them,  but  Jogues  went  fearlessly  on.    After  the  return  of  these, 

*  Tho  sign  here  used,  and  frequently  employed  by  French  missionaries, 
is  the  Greek  diphthong  ou,  and  was  used  to  express  a  short  Indian  sound, 
which,  at  tho  beginn  ng  of  a  syllable,  answers  to  our  w,  and,  at  the  end,  to 
the  sound  of  ou  in  Plymouth. 

t  Decision  in  the  Superior's  journal. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


97 


fl 


the  French  were  left  in  the  greatest  anxiety  and  uncertainty  as  to 
hJH  fate.  Months  rolled  by,  and  no  tidings  reached  them ;  at  last, 
almost  at  the  same  time,  they  heard  from  some  Hurons  who  had 
escaped  from  the  Mohawk,  an  account  of  his  death,  and  received 
letters  from  Governor  Kieft,  which  confirmed  it. 

The  Indian  account,  as  preserved  in  the  manuscript  of  Father  Bu- 
teux  and  Father  De  Quen,  is,  that  when  the  missionary  was  within 
two  days'  march  of  the  castles,  that  is,  halfway  between  Lake  George 
and  the  Mohawk,  he  was  met  by  a  war  party  out  against  the  French. 
The  missionary  and  his  companion,  were  immediately  seized,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  remonstrances,  stripped  and  beaten ;  they  then  turned 
homeward,  and  Father  Jogues  was  again  led  naked  into  Gandawague,* 
the  place  of  his  former  captivity.  Blows  were  mingled  with  threats 
of  death  on  the  morrow.  « You  shall  not  be  burned,"  they  cried, 
«*  you  shall  die  beneath  our  hatchets,  and  your  heads  shall  be  fixed 
on  our  palisades,  to  show  your  brethren  whom  we  take."  In  vain 
did  he  endeavor  to  show  them  the  injustice  of  treating  him  as  an 
enemy,  when  he  came  the  messenger  of  peace.  Deaf  to  the  voice 
of  reason,  and  blinded  by  superstition,  they  began  their  butchery. 
Slicing  off  the  flesh  from  his  arras  and  back,  they  cried,  "  Let  us  see 
whether  this  white  flesh  is  the  flesh  of  an  Otkon."  "  I  am  but  a  man 
like  yourselves,"  replied  the  dauntless  missionary,  « though  I  fear  not 
death  nor  your  tortures.  You  do  wrong  to  kill  me.  I  have  come 
to  your  country  to  preserve  peace,  and  strengthen  the  land,  and  to 
show  you  the  way  to  heaven,  and  you  treat  me  like  a  dog !  Fear  the 
chastisement  of  Him,  who  rules  both  the  Indian  and  the  French." 

In  spite  of  their  threats,  his  fate  was  undecided.     Of  the  three 
great  families  in  each  tribe,  the  Bear  was  clamorous  for  blood,  while 


*  Thus  do  all  the  French  Relations  from  this  time,  name  the  place  of  hia 
death;  it  is  the  same  as  Caugnawaga,  and  means  "  at  the  rapids."  F.  Pon- 
cet,  in  the  narrative  of  his  captivity  on  the  Mohawk,  makes  the  place  of 
Goupil's  death,  that  of  Jogues'  also,  to  be  the  second  village,  the  Andago- 
ron,  or  Gandagoron,  of  F.  Jogues.  The  present  Caughnawaga  may,  there- 
fore, be  considered  the  place  of  the  missionary's  death,  as  we  have  nothing 
to  show  that  the  village  in  question  lay  south  of  the  Mohawk,  althougli  the 
first  village  did.  Caughnawaga  became,  too,  in  the  sequel,  the  centre  of 
the  most  successful  Catholic  missions  among  the  Iroquois,  and  is  hallowed, 
not  only  by  the  death  of  Jogues  and  Qoupil,  but  by  the  birth  of  the  sainted 
Catharine  TeLgakwita.    It  is  our  holy  ground. 


I 


PERILS     OF     THE 


the  Tortoise,  and  his  own  clan,  the  Wolf,  declared  that  he  should  live. 
A  council  was  called  in  the  largest  town ;  it  was  there  decided  that 
he  should  be  spared,  but  it  was  too  late. 

Towards  evening,  on  the  day  after  his  arrival,  some  Indians  of  the 
Bear  family,  came  to  invite  him  to  supper ;  he  arose  to  follow,  but 
scarce  had  he  stooped  to  enter  the  lodge,  when  an  Indian  concealed 
within  sprang  forward,  and  dealt  him  a  terrible  blow  with  his  hatchet. 
Kiotsaeton,  the  deputy,  who  had  concluded  the  peace,  threw  up  his 
arm  lo  avert  the  blow,  but  it  cut  through  his  arm,  and  sank  deep  in 
the  head  of  the  missionary.  His  head  was  then  cut  off,  and  set  on 
the  palisade.    His  companion  shared  his  fate. 

The  letters  from  the  Dutch  authorities  at  New  Amsterdam,  which 
reached  Quebec  on  the  4th  of  June,  1647,  are  as  follows : 


(( 


To  M.  De  Montmagny,  Governor  of  New  France. 


"MoNSiEUB,  Monsieur, 

I  wrote  a  reply  to  that  which  you  were  pleased  to 
honor  me  with  by  Father  de  Jogues,  dated  May  15, 
and  I  sent  it  to  Fort  Orange,  to  deliver  it  to  said  Father 
de  Jogues ;  but  he,  not  having  returned  as  expected,  it 
was  not  immediately  sent.  This  will  serve  then  to 
thank  your  excellency  for  your  remembrance  of  me, 
which  I  shall  endeavor  to  return,  if  it  please  God  to 
give  me  an  opportunity.  I  send  this  through  the  North- 
ern Section,  by  the  English,  or  Monsieur  d'Aunay,  in 
order  to  advise  you  of  the  massacre  of  F.  Isaac  de  Jogues 
and  his  companions,  perpetrated  by  the  barbarous  and  in- 
human Maquaas  or  Iroquois ;  as  also  of  their  design  to 
surprise  you,  under  color  of  a  visit,  as  you  will  see  by 
the  enclosed,  which,  though  badly  written  and  spelt,  will, 
to  our  great  regret,  give  you  all  the  particulars.  I  am 
sorry  that  the  subject  of  this  is  not  more  agreeable ;  but 
the  importance  of  the  affair  has  not  permitted  me  to  be 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


09 


silent.  Our  Minister  above  carefully  inciuired  of  the 
chiefs  of  this  canaille,  tlieir  reasons  for  the  wretched  act, 
but  he  could  get  no  answer  from  them  but  this,  that  the 
said  Father  had  left,  among  some  articles  that  he  had 
left  in  their  keeping,  a  devil  who  had  caused  all  their 
corn  or  maize  to  be  eaten  up  by  worms*  This  is  all  I 
can  at  present  write  to  you.  Praying  God  to  vouchsafe  to 
guard  you  and  yours  from  this  treacherous  nation,  and 
assuring  you  that  I  am 

Your  most  humble  and  obedient  servant. 

William  Kieft. 

Fort  Amsterdam,  in  New  Netherland,  ) 
November  14,  1C4G.     5 

Enclosure. 
Praised  be  God  at  Fort  Orange ! 

Monsieur,  Monsieur  La  Montagne. 

I  have  not  wished  to  lose  this  occasion  of  letting  you 
know  my  state  of  health.  I  am  in  good  health,  thank 
God,  and  pray  God  that  it  may  be  so  with  you  and  your 
children. 

I  have  not  iDuch  niore,  but  how  the  French  arrived 
the  seventeenth  of  this  month,  at  the  Maquaas  Fort. 
This  is  to  let  you  know  how  those  ungrateful  barbarians 
did  not  wait  till  they  were  fairly  arrived  at  their  cabins, 

*  The  allusion  here  is  to  Dominie  John  Megapolensig,  to  whom  the  Indians 
brought  some  of  the  books  and  clothes  of  the  murdered  missionary.  The 
friendship  existing  between  his  early  representative  of  the  Dutch  church  iu 
New  York,  and  the  Catholic  missionaries,  is  one  of  the  most  pleasing  inci- 
dents in  this  period.  To  his  kind  solicitude  and  subsequent  hospitality, 
two  acknowledged  that,  next  to  God,  they  owed  their  lives.  A  correspon- 
dence was  subsequently  carried  on  between  then,  and  the  missionaries  lost 
no  opportunity  of  expressing  their  gratitude,  to  so  eminent  a  benefactor, 
and  bis  name  is  deservedly  honored  by  the  Catbolios  of  New  York. 


I 


100 


PERIL3     OF     THE 


ill 


ti 


■I 


where  they  were  stripped  all  naked,  without  shirt,  only 
they  gave  each  a  pair  of  drawers  to  cover  decency. 

The  very  day  of  their  coming  they  begun  to  threaten 
them,  and  immediately,  with  fists  and  clubs,  saying  you 
shall  die  to-morrow,  do  not  be  astonished,  we  shall  not 
burn  you,  take  courage,  we  shall  strike  you  with  an  axe, 
and  put  your  heads  on  the  palisade,  that  your  brothers 
may  see  you  yet,  when  we  take  them.  You  must  know 
that  it  was  only  the  Bear  nation  that  killed  them. 
Knowing  that  the  "Wolf  and  Tortoise  tribes  have  done 
all  that  they  could  to  save  their  lives,  and  said  against 
the  Bear,  kill  us  first,  but  alas,  they  are  no  longer  alive. 
Know  then  that  the  eighteenth,  in  the  evening,  they 
came  to  call  Isaac  to  supper.  He  got  up  and  went  away 
with  the  savage  to  the  Bear's  lodge,  as  entering  the  lodge 
there  was  a  traitor  with  his  hatchet  behind  the  door. 
On  entering,  he  split  open  his  head,  and  at  the  same  time 
cut  off  his  head  and  put  it  on  the  palisade.  The  next 
morning  early  he  did  the  same  with  the  other  and  threw 
their  bodies  into  the  river.  Monsieur,  I  have  not  been 
able  to  know  or  hear  from  any  savage  why  they  killed  them. 

Besides  this  their  envy  and  enterprise,  they  are  going 
with  three  or  four  hundred  men  to  try  and  surprise  the 
French  to  do  the  same  as  they  did  to  the  others,  but  God 
grant  they  don't  accomplish  their  design. 

It  would  be  desirable  that  Monsieur  should  be  warned, 
but  there  is  no  way  to  do  it  from  here.  Monsieur,  I 
have  no  more  to  write,  but  I  remain  your  very  humble 
and  affectionate  servant  and  friend, 

Jan  Labatie.* 

•  Labatie  was  the  French  interpreter  at  Albany,  and  had,  with  Van  Curler, 
visited  the  Mohawk  castles,  to  resoud  the  missioQary,  in  1642. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


101 


Monsieur,  I  beg  you  (give)  my  baisemains  (respects) 
to  the  Governor. 

Written  at  Fort  Orange,  Oct.  30,  1646. 

Such  was  the  glorious  close  of  the  Missionary's  zeal- 
ous career. 

The  day  after  the  reception  of  the  letters,  a  solemn 
Mass  of  the  Dead  was  offered  up  at  Quebec  ;  but  "  we 
could  not,"  says  Ragueneau,  "  bring  ourselves  to  offer 
for  him  the  prayers  of  the  dead.     We  offered  the  ador- 
able sacrifice,  but  in  thanksgiving  for  the   favors  which 
he  had  received  from  God.    Laity  and  religious  share  our 
sentiments  on  this  happy  death,  and  more  were  found 
inclined  to  invoke  his  aid  than  to  pray  for  his  repose." 
The  Catholic  clergy  of  our  State  may  well  be  proud  of 
so  illustrious  a  founder,  for  he  was  the  first  priest  who 
entered  or  labored  in  the  city  and  State  of  New  York. 
His  sufferings  and  toils  now  find  a  place  in  every  his- 
tory of  our  country  ;  but  we  must  not  consider  him  as  a 
mere  explorer  of  the  wildern3ss,  borne  up  perhaps  by 
religious  enthusiasm.     He  was  a  man  of  deep  and  tender 
piety,  of  extraordinary  candor  and  v^penness  of  soul, 
timid  by  nature,  yet  of  tried  courage  and  heroic  firmness ; 
a  man  who  saw  all  in  God,  and  in  all  resigned  himself 
to  the  directing  hand  of  Providence.     To  make    God 
known  at  the  expense  of  personal  suffering  was  his  only 
thought.     In  a  word,  he  was  one  of  those  superior  men 
who  rise  from  time   to   time  in  the   Church   so   distin- 
guished from  all  around  by  an  impress  of  sanctity,  by  a 
prestige  of  all  Christian  virtue,  as  to  make  us  look  without 
astonishment  on  even  miraculous  powers  in  their  hands. 
These  are  not  wanting  in  the  case  of  Father  Jogues. 

8« 


1^  ' 


102 


PERILS     OF     TUB 


1   t. 


Two  miracles  wrought  soon  after  his  tlcath,  seem  suf- 
ficiently attested  to  warrant  our  belief,  and  we  accord- 
ingly insert  a  brief  account  of  them. 

When  the  holy  missionary  fell,  Kiotsacton  turned 
away  from  the  Mohawk  as  one  disgraced.  In  the  name  of 
the  tribe  he  had  pledged  all  to  peace,  and  now  that  peace 
was  broken.  He  rambled  to  the  wilderness,  and  after 
many  months  appeared  in  the  French  settlements.  He 
told  of  all  that  had  occurred,  and  announced  his  wish 
to  dwell  with  the  French.  Suspecting  some  treachery, 
the  Commandant  of  the  French  post  sent  him  in  a 
vessel  to  Quebec,  and  for  fear  of  his  escape  put  him  in 
irons.  The  noble  chief,  beholding  himself  thus  ill- 
treated  by  those  he  sought  ar)  friends,  turned  in  prayer 
to  the  holy  missionary,  whose  virtues  he  honored,  and 
whose  death  he  had  witnessed.  Father  Jogues  was  not 
invoked  in  vain ;  he  burst  the  bonds  of  the  chieftain, 
and  the  French  guards  were  amazed,  in  the  morning,  to 
find  him  unshackled.  When  they  learned  how  super- 
naturally  this  had  been  accomplished,  they  banished 
their  suspicions,  and  thanked  the  Almighty,  fcr  the 
power  which  he  had  bestowed  upci  his  servant.  At 
Quebec,  the  Mohawk  chief  was  honorably  received,  and, 
proceeding  to  France,  he  was  fully  instructed  and 
baptized. 

In  France,  Father  Jogues  was  regarded  as  a  martyr ; 
and,  even  in  his  life-time,  things  which  he  had  used 
were  preserved  as  relics.  At  the  Ursuline  Convent  at 
Angers,  Fathor  Jogues  had  one  day  left  a  pair  of  gloves, 
and  when,  some  time  after  his  glorious  and  happy  death. 
Sister  Marie  Prevosterie  was  seized  with  a  dangerous 
fever,  accompanied  by  a  swelling  m  the  lower  extremi- 


Jl        M 


OCEAN     AtlD     WILDERNESS. 


103 


ties,  Mother  Mur^^et  Poussin,  the  Superior,  urged  her 
to  have  recourse  to  the  holy  martyr.  The  nun  did  so  ; 
applying  the  relic  to  the  swollen  limb ;  during  the 
night  the  pain  increased,  but  suddenly,  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  pain  and  swelling  vanished,  and 
Sister  Mary,  rising  from  bed,  like  one  in  health,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  choir,  to  return  thanks  to  God.  No 
symptom  of  disease  appeared,  till  the  same  day,  on  the 
following  year ;  but,  on  her  entering  th"  chapel,  to 
return  thanks  to  God,  the  pain  disappeared  entirely. 
Of  this  cure,  an  account  dra^vn  up  on  the  spot,  by 
Mother  Poussin,  Sister  Mary  herself,  and  eight  other 
nuns,  is  still  preserved;  and  Pather  du  Creux,  who 
had  visited  the  convent  with  Father  Jogues,  inserts  an 
account  in  his  Latin  history  of  Canada. 

The  missionaries  of  New  France  ever  regarded  as  a 
favor  obtained  by  their  martyred  associate,  the  success 
wliich  the  gospel  met  with  at  Caughnawaga,  the  vil- 
lage where  he  received  his  crown.  Here  a  Mohawk 
church  was  first  formed,  renowned  for  the  piety  and  fer- 
vor of  those  who  composed  it,  and  here  tiie  Christians 
first  acquired  any  weight  by  numbers.  This  village 
was,  too,  the  birth-place  of  Catharine  Tehgahkwita,  w  hose 
holiness  was  attested  by  so  many  miracles,  and  whose 
veneration  is  still  so  great  in  Canada. 


104 


PEEILS     OF     THE 


CHAPTER  V. 

CAPTIVITY   OF  TATHEB  FRANCIS  JOSEPH  BRESSANI. 

Father  Francis  Joesph  Bressani,  whose;  narrative  we  are  next  to 
give,  was  bom  at  Rome,  and,  at  th    '^arly  age  oi  fifteen,  entered  the 
Society  of  Jesus.    After  the  us'       period  of  probation  and  study, 
he  was  engaged  in  teaching,  and  successively  tilled  the  chairs  of  Lit- 
erature, Philosophy,  and  Mathematics;  but,  ha\'ing  conversed  with 
some  members  of  the  French  province,  then  at  Rome,  he  became 
inflamed  with  zeal  for  the  foreign  missions,  and  was,  at  last;,  gratified 
by  being  selected  for  that  of  Canada.     He  immediately  set  out  for 
France,  in  order  to  take  shipping  for  his  destination  j  and,  though 
warned  on  his  way,  by  a  pious  nun,  of  the  sufferings  that  awaited 
him,  he  resolutely  advanced,  and  embarking,  reached  Quebec  in  the 
summer  of  1642.    He  was  employed  at  first  in  the  city,  and  the 
following  year,  as  missionary  to  the  Algonquins  at  Three  Rivers  j  but, 
in  the  spring  of  1644,  was  appointed  to  proceed  to  the  Huron 
countrj',  then  so  destitute  of  missionaries,  and  with  missionaries  so 
destitute  of  every  necessary  of  life.     We  have  seen  how  Father 
Jogues  courageously  exposed  himself  to  procure  his  companion's 
relief,  and  how  fearfully  he  suffered  in  the  hands  of  the  terrible 
Mohawks.    Two  years  more  had  elapsed,  and  the  Superior  at  Que- 
bec resolved  to  make  another  effort  to  relieve  the  Huron  Fathers, 

to  give  them  clothes  to  replace  their  rags,  and  flour  and  wine  to 
enable  them  to  say  Mass.  Father  Bressani  was  not  unaware  of  the 
dangers,  but  set  out  with  a  brave  heart,  on  the  27th  of  April,  1644. 

He  was  not,  however,  fully  aware  of  the  position  of  affairs ;  the 
whole  colony  was  surrounded  by  war  parties  of  the  enemy,  who  be- 
set every  road,  and  watched  from  every  highland,  like  eagles  to 
pounce  on  their  prey.  Meanwhile,  the  missionary  advanced  in  his 
canoe  from  Quebec,  with  one  French  companion,  and  six  Huron 
neophytes,  of  whom  we  know  the  names  of  three :  Henry  Stonirats, 


fi 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


105 


Michael  Atioquendoron,  and  Bernard  Gotrioskon.  On  the  third 
daj  when  near  the  little  Riviere  aux  Glaises,  not  far  from  pTrt 
Stt?    '"'    "^'^^'^    '-'-'    ''-y    --    ^^-^^^    an'     Jade 

n/f ''/'''''"^  '^^'  ^''''^^''  ^'  ^^Pt^^«  ^^d  subse- 
quent  sufferings : 

Most  reverend  Pather  in  Jesus  Christ 

Pax  Che,3ti_I  know  not  whether  your  Paternity 

rl'"T"V  ;  ^^"''-"'-g  of  ^  poor  cripple  once 
quite  well  .„  body,  and  well  know„,to  you.  His  letter 
^  badly  written  and  soiled  enough,  because  among  other 
^senes  he  writer  has  but  one  whole  iinger  on  hfs  right 
bv  thr,V'^  ^^»^.cely  prevent  the  paper's  being  stained 

wounds.  His  ink  is  diluted  gunpowder,  and  his  table 
the  bare  ground.  He  writes  to  you  fiom  the  land  of  the 
Iroquois,  where  he  is  now  a  prisoner,  and  would  briefly 

H»n  T  J-  ^  ,'<-^^**'^'"  <=o"'i«ny  with  six  Chris- 
tmn  Indians,  and  a  young  Frenchman,  who  in  three 
canoes  were  going  up  to  the  Huron  country. 

On  the  evening  of  the  first  day.  the  Huron  who  steered 
our  canoe  upset  us  in  Lake  St.  Pierre,  by  firing  Tl 

caul  me       T.  ''""  '"  ^"""'  ''"«  '-»  Karons 

caught  me  and  drew  me  to  the  shore  where  we  spent  the 

SenTft""^  T''  ^"  ^''-     ^'  «"--  '<>" 
accident  for  an  ill-omen,  and  advised  me  to  return  to 

Three  H.vers,  which  was  only  eight  or  ten  miles  off;  "cer- 
tainly, they  cried,  this  voyage  will  not  p,..™  f.... '  -.  !. 
AS   X  feared  that  there -might  be-soL-su;;:;::^ 


106 


PERILS     OF     THE 


thought  in  this  resolution,  I  preferred  to  push  on  to 
another  French  fort,*  thirty  miles  higher  up,  where 
we  might  recruit  a  little.  They  obeyed  me,  and  we 
started  quite  early  the  next  morning,  but  the  snow  and 
the  bad  weather  greatly  retarded  our  speed,  and  compelled 
us  to  stop  at  mid-day. 

On  the  third  day,  when  twenty-two  or  twenty-four 
miles  from  Three  Rivers,  and  seven  or  eight  from  Fort 
Richelieu,  we  fell  into  an  ambuscade  of  twenty-seven 
Iroquois,  who  killed  one  of  our  Indians,  and  took  the 
rest  and  myself  prisoners. 

We  might  have  fled  or  even  killed  some  Iroquois,  but, 
when  I  saw  my  companions  taken,  I  thought  it  better 
not  to  forsake  them ;  I  looked  upon  the  disposition  of 
our  Indians  as  a  mark  of  the  will  of  God  ;  choosing,  as 
they  did,  to  surrender  rather  than  seek  safety  by  flight. 
After  binding  us,  they  uttered  horrid  cries,  "  sicut 
exultant  victores  capta  pr^da,"  "  as  conquerors  rejoice 
after  taking  a  prey,"  (Isaias  ix.  3,)  and  made  a  thanks- 
giving to  the  Sun  for  having  delivered  into  their  hands, 
a  Blackgown,  as  they  call  the  Jesuits.      They  entered 
our  canoes  and  seized  all  their  contents,  consisting  of 
provisions    for    the    missionaries    residing    among    the 
Hurons,  who  were  in  extreme  want,  inasmuch  as  they 
had  for  several  yeai's  received   no    aid    from    Europe. 
They  next  commanded  us  to  sing,  then  led  us  to  a  little 
river  hard  by,  where  they  divided  the  booty,  and  scalped 
the  Huron  whom  they  had  killed.     The  scalp  was  to  be 
carried  in  triumph  on  the  top  of  a  pole.     They  cut  off 
the  feet,  hands,  and  most  fleshy  parts  of  the  body  to  eat, 
as  well  as  the  heart. 

♦  Fort  Richelieu. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


107 


^  The  fifth  day  they  made  us  cross  the  lake  to  pass  the 
night  m  a  retired  but  very  damp  spot.  We  there  began 
to  take  our  sleep  tied  on  the  ground  in  the  open  air,  as 
we  continued  to  do  during  the  rest  of  our  voyage. 

My  consolation  was  to  think  that  we  were  doing  the 
will  of  God,  since  I  had  undertaken  this  voyage  only 
through  obedience.  I  was  full  of  confidence  in  the 
intercession  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  the  help  of  so 
many  souls  who  prayed  for  me. 

The  following  day  we  embarked  on  a  river,*  and  after 
some  miles  they  ordered  me  to  throw   overboard   my 
papers  which  they  had  left  me  till  then.     They  super- 
stitiously  imagined  that  they  had  made  our  canoe  burst 
open.     They  were  surprised  to  see  me  grieved  at  this 
loss,  who  had  never  shown  any  regret  for  all  else.     We 
were  two  days  in  ascending  this  river  to  the  fallsf  which 
compelled  us  to  land  and  march  six  days  in  the  woods. 
The  next  day  which  was  a  Friday,  (May  6,)  we  met 
some  Iroquois  going  out  to  fight.     They  added  some 
blows  to  the  terrible  threats  they  made  ;  but  the  account 
which  they  gave  to  our  keepers,  of  the  death  of  one  of 
their  party  killed  by  a  Frenchman,  was  a  ground  for 
their  commencing  to  treat  us  with  much  greater  cruelty. 
At  the  moment  of  our  capture  the  Iroquois  were  dying 
of  hunger  ;  so  that  in  two  or  three  days  they  consumed 
all  our  provisions,  and  we  had  no  food,  duiing  the  rest  of 
the  way,  but  from  hunting,  fishing,  or  some  wild  roots 
which  they  found.     Their  want  was  so  great  that  they 
picked  up  on  the  shore  a  dead  beaver  already  putrefying. 
They  gave  it  to  me  in  the  evening  to  wash  in  the  river, 
but,  its  stench  leading  me  to  beHe.e  that  they  did  not 


•  Eichelieu  or  Sorel. 


t  Rapids  of  Chambly. 


108 


PERILS     OF     THE 


f 

w 


want  it,  I  threw  it  into  the  water.     This  blunder  of  mine 
I  expiated  by  a  vigorous  penance. 

I  will  not  here  relate  all  I  had  to  suffer  in  that  voyage. 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  we  had  to  carry  our  loads  in  the 
woods  by  unbeaten  roads,  where  there  is  nothing  but 
stones,  thorns,  holes,  water  and  snow,  which  had  not  yet 
entirely  disappeared.  We  were  bare-footed,  and  were 
left  fasting  sometimes  till  three  or  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  often  during  the  whole  day,  exposed  to 
the  rain,  and  drenched  with  the  waters  of  the  torrents 
and  rivers  which  we  had  at  times  to  cross. 

When  evening  was  come,  I  was  ordered  to  go  for 
wood,  to  bring  water,  and  cook  when  they  had  any  pro- 
visions. When  I  did  not  succeed,  or  misunderstood 
the  orders  which  I  received,  blows  were  not  spared  ; 
still  less  when  we  met  other  savages  going  to  fish  or 
hunt. 

It  was  not  easy  for  me  to  rest  at  night,  because  they 
tied  me  to  a  tree,  leaving  me  exposed  to  the  keen  night 
air,  still  cold  enough  at  .aat  period. 

We  at  last  arrived  at  the  Lake  of  the  Iroquois,  (Lake 
Champlain.)  We  had  to  make  other  canoes,  in  which 
I  too  was  to  do  my  part.  After  five  or  six  days'  sail- 
ing, we  landed,  and  marched  for  three  more. 

The  fourth  day,  which  was  the  fifteenth  of  May,  we 
arrived  about  20  o'clock,  (3  1-4  P.  M.,)  and  before 
having  as  yet  taken  any  food,  at  a  river  on  the  banks  of 
which  some  four  hundred  savages  were  gathered,  fish- 
ing. Hearing  of  our  approach,  they  came  out  to  meet 
us,  and,  when  about  two  hundred  paces  from  their  cab- 
ins, they  stripped  off  all  mv  clothes,  and  made  me 
march  ahead.     The  young  men  formed  a  line  to  the 


M 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


109 


for 


right  a^d  left  each  armed  with  a  club,  exceprthe  first 
one,  who  held  a  knife  in  his  hand. 

When  I  began  my  march,  this  one  stopped  my  pas- 
sage, and,   seizing  my  left  hand,  cleft  it  open  with  his 
kn.fe   between   the   little  finger  and   the   next,   with 
such  force  and  violence  that  I  thought  he  would  lav 
open  my  whole  hand.     The  others  then  began  to  load 
me  wuh  blows  till  I  reached  the  stage  which  they  had 
erected  for  our  torture.     We  had  to  mount  on  these 
rough  pieces  of  bark,  raised  about  nine  palms  high,  so 
as  to  give  the  crowd  an  opportunity  to  see  and  insult  us. 
I  was  all  drenched  in  blood,  that  streamed  from  every 
part  of  my  body,  and  the  wind  to  which  we  were  ex- 
posed was  cold  enough  to  congeal  it  immediately  on  my 

What  consoled  me  much  was,  to  see  that  God  granted 
me  the  grace  of  suffering  some  little  pain  in  this  world, 
instead  of  the  incomparably  far  greater  torments,  which 
I  should  have  had  to  suffer  for  my  sins  iu  the  next 
world. 

The  warriors  came  next,  and  and  were  received  by 
the  savages  with  great  ceremony,  and  regaled  with  the 
best  of  all  that  their  fishing  supplied. 
^  They  bade  us  sing.  Judge  whether  we  could,  fast- 
mg  worn  do>vn  by  marching,  broken  by  their  blows, 
and  shivermg  from  head  to  foot  with  cold. 

Shortly  after,  a  Huron  slave  brought  me  a  little  In, 
dian  corn,  and  a  captain  who  saw  me  all  trembling  with 
cold  at  last,  at  my  entreaty,  gave  me  back  the  half  of 
an  old  summer  cassock  all  in  tatters,  which  served  only 
to  cover,  but  not  to  warm  me. 

We  had  to  sing  till  the  departure  of  the  brayes,  and 

10 


"•WWB" 


I 


110 


PERILS     or     THB 


were  then  left  at  the  mercy  of  the  youth,  who  made  us 
come  down  from  the  scaffold  where  we  had  been  about 
two  hours,  to  make  us  dance  in  their  fashion,  and 
because  I  did  not  succeed,  nor  was  indeed  able,  these 
young  people  beat  me,  pricked  me,  plucked  out  my 
hair,  my  beard,  etc.  , 

They  kept  us  five  or  six  days  in  this  place  for  their 
pastime,  leaving  us  entirely  at  the  discretion  or  indis- 
cretion of  every  one.     We  were  obliged  to  obey  even 
the  children,  and  that  in  things  unreas-nable,  and  often 
contradictory.  «  Sing,"  cries  one ;  «  Hold  your  tongue," 
says  another ;  if  I  obeyed  the  first,  the  latter  tormented 
me.     "Stretch  out  your  hand;  I  want  to  burn  it." 
Another  burnt  it  because   I  did  not  extend  it  to  him. 
They  commanded  me  to  take  fire  between  the  fingers 
to  put  in  their  pipes,  full  of  tobacco,  and  then  let  it  fall 
on  the  ground  purposely  four  or  five  times,  one  after 
another,  to  make  me  burn  myself,  picking  it  up  each 

time.  . 

These  scenes  usually  took  place  at  night;  tor, 
towards  evening,  the  captains  cried  in  a  fearful  voice 
axound  the  cabins,  "  Gather  ye  young  men,  come  and 
caress  our  prisoners." 

On  this,  they  flocked  together,  and  assembled  in  some 
large  cabin.  There  the  remnant  of  dress  which  had 
been  given  me  was  torn  off,  leaving  me  naked ;  then 
some  goaded  me  with  pointed  sticks  ;  some  burnt  me 
with  firebrands,  or  red-hot  stones,  while  others  used 
burning  ashes,  or  hot  coals.  They  made  me  walk 
around  the  fire  on  hot  ashes,  under  which  they  had 
stuck  sharp  sticks  in  the  ground.  Some  plucked  out 
my  hair,  others  my  beard. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


Ill 


>» 


it. 


)j 


Every  night,  after  making  me  sing,  and  tormenting 
me  as  above,  they  spent  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
burning  one  of  my  nails  or  a  finger.     Of  the  ten  that  I 
had,  I  have  now  but  one  left  whole,  and  even  of  that, 
they  have  torn  out  the  nail  with  their  teeth.     One  even- 
ing,  they  took  off  a  nail;  the  next  day  the  first  joint; 
the  day   after,  the   second.     By   the   sixth  time,  they 
burned  almost   six.     To  the  hands  merely  they  applied 
hre  and  iron  more  than  eighteen  times,  and,  during  this 
torment,  I  was  obliged  to  sing.     They  ceased  torturing 
me  only  at  one  or   two   o'clock  at  night.     They  then 
usually  left  me  tied  to  the  ground  in  some  spot  exposed 
to  the  ram,  with  no  bed  or  blanket,  but  a  small  skin 
which  did  not  cover  half  my  body,  and  often  even  with- 
out  any  covering ;  for  they  had  already  torn  up  the 
piece  of  a  cassock  which  had  been  given  me.     Yet  out 
of  compassion   they   left  me   enough    to    cover   what 
decency,  even   among  tjiem,  requires  to  be  concealed. 
They  kept  the  rest. 

^  For  a  whole  month,  we  had  to  undergo  these  cruel- 
■ties,  and  greater  still,  but  we  remained  only  eight  days 
m  the  first  place.     I  never  would  have  believed  that 
man  had  so  hard  a  life. 

One   night,  that   they  were   as  usual  torturing  me, 
a  Huron,  taken  prisoner  with  me,  seeing  one  of  his  com- 
panions escape  torments  by  siding  against  me,  suddenly 
cried  out,  in  the  middle  of  the  assembled  throng,  that  I 
was  a  person  of  rank,  and  a  captain  among  the  French 
This  they  heard   with  great  attention  ;  then,  raising  a 
loud  shout  in  sign  of  joy,  they  treated  me  still  worse, 
ihe  next  morning,  I  was  condemnfid  to  be  >>">-t  -i--^ 
and  to  be  eaten.     They  then  began  to  guard  me  more 


lU 


PERILS     OF     THE 


narrowly.  The  men  and  children  never  left  me  alone, 
even  for  natural  necessity,  but  came  tormenting  me  to 
force  me  to  return  to  the  cabin  with  all  speed,  fearing 
that  I  might  take  flight. 

We  left  there  the  26th  of  May  ;  and,  four  days  after, 
reached  the  first  towns  of  this  nation.  In  this  march 
on  foot,  what  with  rain  and  other  hardships,  I  suffered 
more  than  I  had  yet  done.  The  savage  then  my  keeper 
was  more  cruel  than  the  first. 

I  was  beaten,  weak,  ill-fed,  half-naked,  and  slept  in 
the  open  air,  tied  to  a  tree  or  post,  shivering  all  night 
from  cold,  and  the  pain  caused  by  my  bonds. 

In  difficult  places,  my  weakness  callecf  for  help,  but 
it  was  refused,  and,  even  when  I  fell,  renewing  my 
pain,  they  showered  blows  on  me  again  to.  force  me  to 
march  ;  for  they  believed  that  I  did  it  purposely  to  lag 
behind,  and  so  escape. 

One  day,  among  others,  I  fell  into  a  stream  and  was 
like  to  have  drowned.  I  got  out,  I  know  not  how,  and 
in  this  plight  had  to  march  nearly  six  miles  more  till 
evening,  with  a  very  heavy  burthen  on  my  shoulders. 
They  laughed  at  myself  and  my  awkwardness  in  falling 
into  the  water,  yet  this  did  not  hinder  their  burning 
another  of  my  nails  that  night. 

We  at  last  reached  the  first  village  of  this  nation,  and 
here  our  reception  resembled  the  first,  but  was  still  more 
cruel.  Besides  blows  from  their  fists  and  clubs,  which 
I  received  in  the  most  sensitive  parts  of  my  body — they 
a  second  time  slit  open  my  left  hand,  between  the 
middle  and  fore  fingers,  and  the  bastinadc  was  such, 
that  I  fell  half  dead  on  the  ground.  I  thought  I  had 
lost  my  right  eye  forever.     As  I  did  not  rise,  because  I 


I 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


118 


was  unable  to  do  so,  they  continued  to  beat  me,  espec- 
ially on  the  breast  and  head.  I  should  sui-ely  have 
expired  beneath  their  blows,  had  not  a  captain  literally 
dragged  me  out  by  main  strength,  up  to  a  stage,  made 
like  the  former  one,  of  bark.  There,  they  soon  after, 
cut  off  the  middle  and  mangled  the  fore  finger  of  my 
left  hand.  But  at  the  same  moment  the  rain,  attended 
with  thunder  and  lightning,  fell  in  such  torrents,  that 
the  savages  retired,  leaving  us  exposed  naked  to  the 
storm,  till  an  Indian,  I  know  not  whom,  took  pity  on  us, 
and  in  the  evening  took  us  into  his  cabin. 

We  were  at  this  point,  tormented  with  more  cruelty 
and  audacity  than  ever,  and  without  leaving  us  a  mo- 
ment's rest.  They  forced  me  to  eat  all  kinds  of  filth, 
and  burnt  one  of  my  fingers  and  the  still  remaining  nails. 
They  dislocated  my  toes,  and  ran  a  fire-brand  through 
one  of  my  feet.  '  I  know  not  what  they  did  not  attempt 
another  time,  but  I  pretended  to  faint,  so  as  to  seem  not 
to  see  an  indecent  action. 

After  glutting  their  cruelty  here,  they  sent  us  into 
another  village,  nine  or  ten  miles  further.  Here  they 
added  to  the  torments  of  which  I  have  spoken,  that  of 
hanging  me  up  by  the  feet,  either  in  cords  or  with 
chains,  given  them  by  the  Dutch.  By  night  I  lay 
stretched  on  the  ground,  naked  and  bound,  according 
to  their  custom,  to  several  stakes,  by  the  feet,  hands,  and 
neck.  The  torments  which  I  had  to  suffer  in  this  state, 
for  six  or  seven  nights,  were  in  such  places,  and  of  such 
a  description,  that  it  is  not  lawful  to  describe  them,  nor 
could  they  be  read  without  blushing.  I  never  closed 
mv  eves  those  nie-hts.  whirh.  tVirmo-li  gVinvfeof  i«  +v.o 
year,  seemed  to  me  most  long.     My  God !  what  will 

10* 


lU 


PERILS     OF     THE 


Purgatory  then  be  ?    This  consideration  greatly  alleviated 
my  pains. 

After  such  a  treatment,  I  became  so  infectious  and 
horrible,  that  all  drew  off  from  me  as  from  carrion, 
approaching  me  only  to  torment.  Scarce  could  I  find 
one  charitable  enough  to  put  some  food  in  my  mouth, 
for  I  could  use  neither  of  my  hands,  which  were  enor- 
mously swollen,  and  a  mass  of  corruption.  Thus  I 
had  to  suffer  famine  too.  I  was  reduced  to  eat  raw 
Indian  corn,  not  without  danger  of  my  health.  Neces- 
sity made  me  even  find  some  relish  in  chewing  chalk, 
although  it  was  impossible  to  swallow  it. 

I  was  covered  with  vermin,  unable  to  deliver  or  shield 
myself  from  them.  Worms  were  breeding  in  my 
wounds,  and  one  day,  more  than  four  fell  from  one  of 
my  fingers. 

"  J.  have  said  to  rottenness.  Thou  art  my  father ;  to 
worms,  you  are  my  mother  and  my  sister." — Job  xvii. 
14.  "  I  became  a  burthen  to  myself,"  so  that,  had  I 
consulted  but  my  own  feelings,  I  should  have  "  esteemed 
that  to  die  was  gain." 

An  abscess  had  formed  in  my  right  leg,  in  consequence 
of  the  blows  I  had  received  there,  and  my  frequent 
falls.  It  gave  me  no  rest,  especially  after  I  was  no 
longer  anything  but  skin  and  bone,  with  no  bed  but 
the  bare  ground.  The  savages  had,  though  unsuccess- 
fully, several  times  endeavored  to  open  it  with  sharp 
stones,  causing  me  most  intense  pain.  The  apostate 
Huron,  who  had  been  taken  with  me,  had  now  to  act 
as  my  surgeon.  The  day,  which,  according  to  my 
ideas,  was  the  eve  of  my  death,  he  opened  it  with  four 
gashes  of  a  knife.    The  blood  and  matter  gushed  out 


■ i_ 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


115 


80  abundantly,  and  emitted  such  a  stench,  that  it  drove 

all  the  savages  from  the  cabin. 

I  desired  and  expected  death,   though  not  without 

experiencing  some  horror  for  the   torture  by  fire      Yet 
I  prepared  to  the  best  of  my  power,  commending  my- 
self ^to  the  heart  of  the  Mother  of  mercy,  who  is  truly, 
the   *  Lovely,  admirable,  powerful,  clement  Mother,  the 
comfortress   of  the   afflicted."     She  was,  after  God,  the 
only  refuge  of  a  poor  sinner,  abandoned  by  all  creatures, 
in  a  foreign  land,  in  this  place  of  horror  and  vast  soU- 
tude,  without  speech  to  give  utterance  to  his  thoughts, 
without  a  friend  to  console  him,  without  sacraments  to 
lortily  him,  without  any  human  remedy  to  alleviate    liis 
woes. 

The  Huron  and  Algonquin  prisoners,  (these  latter  are 
called  our  Indians,)  instead  of  consoling  me,  were  the 
first  to  make  me  suffer  in  order  to  please  the  Iroquois. 
I  did  not  see  our  good  William  Couture  until  after  my 
deliverance.     The  child  captured  with  me  had  been  car- 
ried off  from  the  moment  that  they  perceived  me  making 
him  say  his  prayers,  which  displeased  them.     They  tor- 
mented him  also,  and,  though  he  was  but  twelve  or 
thirteen  years  old,  they  tore  off  five  of  his  nails  with 
their  teeth.     On  reaching  their  country,  they  had  tied 
his  wrists  with  small  cords,  drawn  as  tight  as  they  could 
80  as  to  give  him  exquisite  pain.     They  did  all   this 
before   my  eyes  to  augment  my  suffering.      O!   how 
differently  we  then  value  many  things  which  are  usually 
so  esteemed !     God  grant  that  I  may  remember  and  profit 
by  It.  ^ 

^^•v  -  in^^  >vcic  laus  fiiiea  up  with  sufferings,  and 
jhtswere  spent  without  repose;  this  caused  me 


my 


i 


si  IL 


116 


PERILS     OF     THE 


even  to  count,  in  the  month,  five  days  more  than  there 
Avere,  but,  looking  at  the  moon  one  night,  I  corrected 
my  error. 

I  was  ignorant  why  the  savages  so  long  deferred  my 
death.  They  told  me  that  it  was  to  fatten  me  before 
they  ate  me  ;  though  they  took  no  means  to  do  so. 

My  fate  was  at  last  decided.  On  the  nineteenth  of 
June,  which  1  deemed  the  last  of  nrry  life,  I  begged  a 
captain  to  put  me  to  death,  if  possible,  otherwise  than 
by  fire  ;  but  another  chief  exhor*  ?d  him  to  stand  firm  in 
the  resolution  already  taken.  The  first  then  told  me 
that  I  was  to  die  neither  by  fire  nor  by  any  other  torture. 
I  could  not  belipve  it,  nor  do  I  know  whether  he  spoke 
in  earnest,  yet  true  it  was.  Such  was  the  will  of  God, 
and  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  to  whom  I  acknowledge  my- 
self indebted  for  my  life,  and,  what  I  esteem  more  highly, 
for  a  great  fortitude  amid  my  woes.  May  it  please  the 
Divine  Majesty  that  this  redound  to  his  greater  glory 
and  my  good. 

The  savages  themselves  were  extremely  'surprised  at 
this  result,  so  contrary  was  it  to  their  intentions,  as  they 
avowed  to  me,  and  as  the  Dutch  have  written.  I  was 
therefore  given,  with  all  the  usual  ceremonies,  to  an  old 
woman  to  replace  her  grandfather,  formerly  killed  by 
the  Hurons,  but  instead  of  having  me  burnt  as  all  desired, 
and  had  already  resolved,  she  redeemed  me  from  their 
hands  at  the  expense  of  some  beads,  which  the  French 
call  porcelaine.* 

I  live  here  in  the  midst  of  the  shadows  of  death. 
They  can  be  heard  speaking  of  nothing  but  murder  and 

*  Called  in  Eoglish,  Wampum. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


117 


assassination.  They  have  recently  murdqf  ed  one  of  their 
own  countrymen  in  his  own  cabin,  as  useless  and  unwor- 
thy to  live. 

I  have  always  somethmg  to  suffer  ;  my  wounds  are 
still  open  ;  and  many  of  the  savages  look  upon  me 
with  no  kindly  eye.  True  then  it  is  that  we  cannot 
live  without  crosses ;  yet  this  is  like  sugar  in  com- 
parison with  the  past. 

The  Dutch  gave  me  hopes  of  my  ransom,  and  that  of 
the  boy  taken  prisoner  with  me.  God's  will  be  done 
in  time  and  eternuy !  My  hope  will  be  still  more  con- 
firmed, if  you  grant  me  a  share  in  your  holy  sacrifices 
and  prayers,  and  those  of  our  Fathers  and  Brothers, 
especially  of  those  who  knew  me  in  other  days. 

Territory  of  the  Iroquois,  July  15,  1644. 

The  mksionary,  at  that  period,  found  no  opportunity  of  sending 
the  letter,  so  that  it  reached  Europe,  together  with  others  which  we 
insert  here,  in  the  order  in  which  they  were  written. 


I  have  found  no  one,  says  the  second  letter,  to 
take  charge  of  the  inclosed,  so  that  you  will  receive 
it  at  the  same  time  as  the  present  one,  which  will 
give  you  the  news  of  my  deliverance  from  the  hands 
of  the  savages,  whose  captive  I  was.  I  am  indebted 
for  It  to  the  Dutch,  and  they  obtained  it  with  no  great 
difficulty,  for  a  very  moderate  ransom,  on  account  of 
the  little  value  which  the  Indians  attached  to  me,  from 
my  unhandiness  at  every  thing,  as  well  as  from  their 
conviction  that  mv  snrps  wnnM  T,oTr««  u—1 

.■    «•*   «i^.T\.i   ileal. 

I  have  been  twice  sold,  first  to  the  old  woman  who 


% 


rsi 


Jl 


i; 


118 


PERILS     OF     THE 


was  to  have  me  burnt,  and  next  to  tlie  Dutch,  dear 
enough,  that  is,  for  about  fifteen  or  twenty  doppiesi* 

I  chanted  my  going  out  from  Egypt  the  nineteenth 
of  August,  that  is,  the  third  day  of  the  Octave  of  the 
Assumption  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  whom  I  regarded  as 
my  liberator.  I  was  a  prisoner  among  the  Iroquois  for 
four  months  ;  but  small  is  that  compared  to  what  my 
sins  deserve.  I  was  unable,  during  my  captivity,  to 
render  to  any  of  those  wretched  beings,  in  return  for 
the  evil  they  did  me,  the  good  which  was  the  object  of 
my  desires ;  that  is,  impart  to  them  a  knowledge  of  the 
true  God.  To  supply  my  ignorance  of  their  language, 
I  endeavored,  by  means  of  a  prisoner  as  my  interpreter, 
to  instruct  a  dying  old  man  ;  but  pride  made  him  deaf 
to  my  words.  He  replied,  that  a  man  of  his  age  and 
rank  should  teach  others,  not  receive  their  lessons.  I 
asked  him  whither  he  would  go  after  his  death.  "  To 
the  west,"  he  answered ;  and  then  began  to  recount  the 
fables  and  follies  which  unfortunately,  blinded  by  the 
devil,  they  take  for  the  most  solid  truths. 

I  baptized  none  but  a  Huron.  They  had  brought 
him  where  I  was  to  burn  him,  and  those  who  guarded 
me  told  me  to  go  and  see  him.  I  did  so  with  some 
reluctance  ;  for  they  had  told  me  that  he  was  not  one 
of  our  Indians,  and  that  I  could  not  understand  him. 
I  advanced  towards  the  crowd  which  opened,  and  let 
me  approach  this  man,  even  then  all  disfigured  by 
torments.  'He  was  stretched  on  the  bare  ground,  with 
nothing  to  rest  his  head  upon.  Seeing  a  stone  near  me, 
I  pushed  it  with  my  foot  towards  his  head,  t0Mse;jve  him 

*  A  doppie  is  a  piece  of  gold  worth  about  three  dollars  and  a  half. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS 


119 


as  a  p.Ilo,v.     He  then  looked  up  at  me  attentively,^  and 
some  hairs  ..ill  left  in  „y  beard,  or  some  other  mark, 
made  h.m  suppose  I  was  a  foreigner.     "  Is  not   this 
man     sa.d  he  to  his  keeper,  "  the  white  man  whom 
you  hold  captive  ?  "     Being  answered  affirmatively,  he 
agam  cast  towards  me  a  most  piteous  look.     "  Sit  down 
brother,  by  me,"  said  he,  "  I  would  speak  with  thee  "' 
1  sat  down,  though  not  without  horror,  such  was  the 
odor  that  exhaled  from   his  already  half-roasted   body. 
Happy  to  be  able  to  understand  him  a  little,  because  he 
spoke  Huron,  I  asked  him  what  he  desired,  hoping  to 
be  able  to  profit  by  the  occasion  to  instruct  and  bap- 
tize  h.m.     To  my  great  consolation,  I  was  anticipated 
by  the    answer.      "What  dost    thou  want?"  said  I. 
1  ask  but  one   thing,  baptism,  as  quickly  as  possible, 
for  the  t.me  is  short."     I  wished  to  question  him  as 
to  the  faith,  so  as  not  to  administer  a  sacrament  with 
preeipitation ;  but   I  found   him   perfectly   instructed, 
havmg  been  already  received  among  the  Catechumens 
in  the  Huron  country.     I  therefore  most  willingly  bap- 
tized him,  to  his  and  my  own  great  satisfaction.     Though 
1  had  administered  this  sacrament  by  a  kind  of  strat. 
agem,  using  the  water  which  they  had  given  me  for 
him  to  drink,  the  Iroquois  perceived  it.     The  captains 
were  at  once  informed,  and,  with  angry  threats,  drove 
me  from  the  hut,  and  then  began    to  torture  him  as 
beiore. 

They  finally  burnt  him  alive  the  next  morning,  and. 
as  I  had  baptized  him,  they  brought  all  his  members, 
one  by  one,  into  the  cabin  where  I  was.  Before  my 
eyes  they  skinned  and  ate  the  feet  and  hands.  The 
husband  of  the  mistress  of  the  lodge  threw  at  my  feet 


PERILS 


THE 


the  victim's  head,  and  left  it  there  a  long  while,  reproach- 
ing me  with  what  I  had  done,  and  exclaiming  :  "  Well, 
now,  of  what  use  were  all  thy  enchantments  ?  " — allud- 
ing to  the  baptism  and  prayers  which  I  had  offered  with 
him.     "  Have  they  rescued  him  from  death  ?  " 

At  that  moment,  I  felt  a  deep  regret  that  I  was  una- 
ble, from  ignorance  of  their  language,  to  speak  to  them 
of  the  virtue  and  effects  of  baptism  on  so  fair  an  oppor- 
tunity, but  the  hour  was  not  yet  come.  Their  sins, 
and,  above  all,  their  pride,  present  a  great  obstacle 
to  the  grace  of  God,  "  who  hath  regard  to  the  hum- 
ble, and  looketh  at  the  proud  from  afar."  They  all 
esteem  themselves  as  heroes  and  warriors,  and  look 
with  contempt  on  the  Europeans,  whom  they  consider 
as  a  vile  and  cowardly  race.  They  believe  themselves 
destined  to  subjugate  the  world.  "  They  are  become 
vain  in  their  thoughts,  and,  as  God  has  abandoned 
them  to  the  desires  of  their  hearts,"  (Romans  i.  21,) 
your  prayers,  your  sacrifices,  and  the  prayers  of  the 
whole  society,  which  is  ever  praying  for  the  conver- 
sion of  infidels,  will  be  able  to  induce  the  Almighty 
•  to  cast  a  look  of  pity  on  them,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
on  me,  especially  amid  the  perils  of  the  sea,  to  which 
I  am  about  to  be  exposed.  Be  assured  that,  sound 
or  cripple,  I  shall  ever  be.  Father,  your  unworthy  and 
humble  servant, 

Francis  Joseph  Bressani. 

New  Amsterdam,  August  31st,  1644. 

The  third  letter  is  written  from  the  isle  of  Rhe,  under  date  of  th* 
sixteenth  of  November,  of  the  same  year.  The  missionary  solicits 
prayers  to  thank  God  for  his  deliverance,  not  only  from  the  hands  of 
the  Iroquois,  but  also  from  the  fury  of  the  eea  where  they  had  met 


i 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


m 


with  terrible  storms,  and,  among  others  one,  says  the  letter  of  the 
twenty-seventh  of  September,  which  was  frightful.  It  lasted  more 
than  twenty-four  hours,  and  compeUed  them  to  cut  away  the  veflsel's 
masts.   Then  he  adds : 


I 


"A  Tui-kish  corsair   pursued   us   for   several   days 
together.     My  companions  on  board  were  Huguenots, 
who  did  not  fail  to  be  displeased  with  the  very  name  of 
a  Papist  and  a  Jesuit.     The  cabin  where  I  lay  had  but 
four  partitions,  and  its  size  did  not  permit  one  to  stretch 
out  at  full  length.     We  ran  out  of  provisions,  and  even 
of  water,  on  the  passage  ;    but,  if  you  except  the  sea- 
sickness, which  did  not  spare  me,  I  was  always  weU, 
and,  after  fifty-five  days  of  difficult  navigation,  I  reached 
the  isle  of  Rhe  in  the   garb  of  a  sailor,  in  better  health 
than   I   have   enjoyed   during   the  eighteen  years    and 
more  that  I  have  been  in  the  Society.     I  was  obHged  to 
beg  alms  on  landing,  whicl'  was  a  greater  interior  con- 
solation to  me  than  can  be  imagined,  thank  God." 

I  omit  a  thousand  other  particulars,  which  do  not  belong  to  the 
dangers  from  the  Iroquois,  as  the  circumstances  of  his  ransom,  the 
welcome  given  him  by  the  Dutch,  etc.;  but  I  cannot  omit  here  hig 
last  letter  which  he  wrote  after  his  return  to  France,  at  the  instance 
of  several  persons,  persuaded  that  this  digression  will  afford  a  just 
subject  of  edification.     It  is  as  follows : 

"You  have  put  me  some  questions  as  to  my  captivity 
in  the  country  of  the  Iroquois,  and  so  earnestly,  and 
adducing  -  ich  motives,  that,  from  the  consideration  I 
owe  you,  cannot  decline  answering  them.  I  will  do 
it  then  with  my  usual  frankness. 

First  Question.     Why  did  the  Iroquois  maltreat  me 

11 


U2 


PERILS     OF     THE 


r 


so  ?     Because  they  looked  upon  me  as  their  enemy,  not 
for  being  a  European,  for  they  are  friends  of  the  Dutch 
Europeans    like    ourselves ;    but  because   we   are   the 
fnends  and  protectors  of  the  Indians,  whom  we  labor 
to  convert,  and  with  whom  they  refuse  peace,  while  we 
maintain  it,  to  gain  them  to   God.     So  that  the  first 
cause   of  this   hatred,  is   the   faith  which  obliges  us  to 
remain  united  to  our  neophytes,  even  at  the  peril  of 
our  life,  and  to  become  indirectly  the  enemies  of  the 
Iroquois.     « If  you  love  our  souls  as  much  as  you  say," 
said  the   Huron,  « love  our  bodies  too,  and  let  us  form 
but  one  nation.     Our  enemies  shall  be  yours  ;  we  shall 
share  the  same  dangers." 

Add  to  this  the  hatred  which  the  Iroquois  have  for 
our  holy  faith,  which  they  call,  and  believe  to  be,  witch- 
craft. This  is  the  reason  why,  quite  recently,  they  pro- 
longed for  eight  days,  instead  of  one  only,  to  which 
they  commonly  limit  it,  the  torture  of  a  Christian 
Indian,  who  publicly  gloried  in  his  faith.  His  name 
was  Jo  oph  Onahre ;  he  expired  amidst  the  most  cruel 
torments. 

They  especially  hold  in  horror  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
because  the  Dutch  have  made  them  believe  it  to  be  a 
real  superstition.  It  was  the  cause  of  the  death  of 
Rene  Goupil,  the  companion  of  Father  Jogues,  and  the 
motive  that  induced  them  to  separate  from  me,  the  boy 
whom  I  was  teaching  to  make  it  with  other  prayers. 

Yet  even  though  the  faith,  which  we  seek  to  intro- 
duce into  these  parts  be  the  cause  of  the  hatred  and 
tortures  of  the  Iroquois,  I  could  not  have  hesitated  to 
brave  these  dangers  for  the  good  of  souls.  In  fact,  if 
we  deem  it  a  meritorious  act  to  brave  the  pestilence. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


US 


even  with  the  sole  object  of  relieving  the  body,  should 
I  not  deem  myself  but  too  happy,  did  God  grant  me 
the  grace  to  lose  my  life  in  succoring  and  conveiting 
souls.     All  those  who  come  to  Canada,  and  especially 
those  sent  among  the  Hurons,  face  these  dangers ;  and 
if,  from  fear  of  Iroquois  torments,  or  other  motive,  no 
one  possessed  courage    enough  for  this,  that  ill-starred 
nation  would  end  with   being    entirely   forsaken,    and 
deprived    of  all    opiritual    succor.     Worthy,    then,    of 
envy  are  those  who  there  find  their  death.     To  speak 
the  truth,  what  consoled  me,  was  less  this  consideration 
than  the  thought  that  God  and  obedience  had  placed 
me   there.     I  implored   him   to   accept  my  sacrifice,  as 
he  accepted   that  of  the  good  thief,  finding  myself  more 
guilty  than  that  happy  crucified  one,  and  punished  like 
him,  but  for   sins  greater  than  his.     I  called  to  mind 
the    doctrine    of  the    Council   of   Trent,    (Session    14, 
chapter  9,)  which  says  that  the  accepting  of  sufl^erings, 
even  though  inevitable  and  necessary,  doth  satisfy  the 
justice  of  God,  and  the  chastisement  which  sins  deserve. 
I  should  have  been  reluctant  to  answer  the  second 
question,  which  concerns   my  interior,  did  I  not  krtow 
that  it  is  glorious  "  to  reveal  and  confess  the  works  of 
God."     "  Opera  Dei  revelare  et  conjiteri,  honorijicum 
est"  and  did  I  not  hope  thereby  to  cooperate  with  your 
devotion.     I   shall   tell  you  then,  in  all  sincerity,  what 
are  the  three  graces  and  signal  favors  which  God  vouch- 
safed me   at  this  time.     The  first  is,  that  though  I  was 
every  moment  within  an  inch  of  death,  which  was  con- 
stantly before  my  eyes,  my  mind  always  enjoyed  the 
same  liberty,  and  I  was  able  to  do  each  action  with  due 
reflection ;  if,  then,  I  have  erred  in  anything,  it  cannot 


t: 


*ii       :     i 


124 


PERILS     OF     THE 


be  attributed  to  Inadvertence,  which  might  have  resulted 
from  the  weakness  of  my  head,  or  the  trouble  which 
fear  inspires,  but  to  an  inexcusable  malice.  My  body 
was  in  an  utter  helplessness.  I  could  scarcely  open 
my  lips  to  say  Our  Father,  while  interiorly  I  acted 
with  as  much  liberty  and  facility  as  I  do  now. 

The  second  grace  which  I  obtained,  was  to  prepare 
my  soul,  so  that  it  accommodated  itself,  that  in  propor- 
tion to  the  dangers  and  sorrows  which  increased  around 
me,  my  interior  dispositions  changed,  and  I  felt  less 
horror  for  death  and  the  fire. 

The  third,  was  the  excluding  from  my  heart  even 
the  slightest  feeUng  of  indignation  against  my  torturers, 
and  the  inspiring  me  even  with  sentiments  of  compas- 
sion for  them.  The  grace  was  measured  by  my  weak- 
ness and  little  virtue.  I  said  to  myself,  on  seeing  them, 
"  This  man  (would  to  God  it  were  given  to  me  to  res- 
cue him  by  my  blood !)  will  be  far  differently  tormented 
in  hell,  while  I  hope  to  succeed  in  effacing  some  of  my 
sins  by  the  slight  sufferings  I  undergo."  He  is  then 
to  be  pitied,  not  I. 

I  have  thus  answered  your  second  question. 
Third.  I  take  up  the  third  question,  which  is,  "What 
were  my  occupations,  and  what  consolation  I  found,  or 
what  was  sent  me  from  heaven  in  my  miseries  ?  I  had 
formerly  relished  St.  Bernard's  paraphrase  on  these 
words  of  the  Apostle,  "  Non  sunt  condigna  passionisj^^ 
etc.,  and  in  that  hour  it  afforded  me  much  consolation. 
"  The  sufferings  of  this  life  bear  no  proportion  to  my 
past  faults,  which  God  pai'dons  me,  to  the  consolations 
which  he  bestows  on  me  here  below,  or  to  the  glory 
which  he  promises  me  hereafter."     iSuiely  my  suffer- 


ii 


,v.,... 


OCEAN     AND     WILDESNESS. 


125 


ing  were  a  mere  nothing  compared  to   so   im»en«,  , 
gam.     Momentaneum  et  leve  tribulationU  noHra: 

frlZ-f  ''".T  1"'^'°'  *"  ^  ""^  "^"'■We  to  pain.  I 
felt  >t  acutely,  but  I  had  inwardly  such  strength  to  bear 
It  that  I  ^as  astonished  at  myself,  or  rather  at  the 
adund.  ,ce  of  grace,  a  favor,  I  believe,  like  that  which 
IJavid  expenenced,  when  he  said,  /„  tribulatione  dila- 
taeu  «,^A^  <.  U  tribulation  thou  hast  dilated  my  heart." 
1  esteem  this  grace  more  highly  than  that  of  my  deliv- 
erance, et  de  omni  tribulatione  eripuhti  me,  "and  from 
every  tribulation  hast  thou  rescued  me  " 

The  goodness  of  God,  whom  we  have  offended,  must 
be  very  great,  since  he  is  satisfied  with  such  a  trifle  for 
a  debt  so  immense,  and  accepts  the  pains  of  this  life, 
instead  of  the  torments  of  purgatory.  "How  good  i^ 
the  God  of  Israel  to  the  pure  of  heart!"  and.  what  is 
greater   still,   to   the   wicked   in   heart.     Quan  bonus 

cor7e  *"  '''"'  *""'  ''  *"  *"  '■»'>"  """ 

Yet  some  interior  pains  I  did  feel,  though  not  at  the 
time  of  my  torture,  which  I  dreaded  much  more  before 
I  suffered  them  than  while  I  actually  underwent  them. 
Often,  mdeed,  I  found  them  more  horrid,  when  gazing 
upon  others  endure  them,  than  when  enduri.g%hem 

My  interior  pains  were  doubts  as  to  faith,  a  tempta- 
tion which  I  now  believe  common  at  the  hour  of  deL 
not  only  by  my  own  experience,  but  especially  because 
the  reason  becomes  clearer  as  each  one  dies  Man! 
then,  seeing  himself  actually,  at  that  moment.  forsaVen 
as  It  were  by  creatures,  can  find  consolation  only  m' 
the  thought  of  God  and  a  paradise,  that  await  4^ 


■  i 


126 


PERILS     OP     THE 


Then  the  fiend,  to  trouble  our  joy,  weaken  our  hope, 
and,  to  use  the  scriptural  expression,  mingle  our  wine 
with  water,  (vinum  tuum  mixtum  est  aqua,)  raises 
doubts  on  all  these  truths.  But  the  goodness  of  God, 
who  "  bringeth  down  to  hell,  and  bringeth  back  again," 
(1  Kings  ii.  6,) — deducit  ad  inferos  et  reducit — did  not 
forsake  me.  It  suggested  for  myself  the  advice  I  would 
myself  have  given  another  on  such  an  occasion,  and  I 
found  my  soul  filled  with  great  peace  and  tranquillity. 
I  made  a  journey  of  several  miles  one  day,  reciting 
no  other  prayer  than  the  Creed,  and  experienced  so 
much  consolation,  that  this  march,  otherwise  painful, 
both  in  itself,  and  on  account  of  a  very  heavy  load  that 
I  carried,  seemed  to  me  quite  short. 

As  to  my  occupations,  you  speak  either  of  interior,  of 
which  I  have  not  spoken,  or  of  exterior,  and  these  were 
given  me  by  my  tormentors.  I  passed  a  great  part  of 
the  day  in  their  cabins,  or  on  their  stages,  where  I  was 
a  but  for  the  insults  and  railleries,  not  of  men  merely, 
but  of  children,  who  left  me  not  one  or  two  hours  even 
of  rest,  day  or  night.  The  usual  conversation  v/as — 
"  We  will  burn  thee  ;  we  will  eat  thee ;  I  '11  eat  a 
foot — I  a  hand,"  etc. 

You  wish  to  know,  in  the  fourth  place,  whether  I 
did  not  find  some  Indians  more  compassionate  towards 
me,  or  at  least  less  cruel,  than  the  others.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  such  there  were ;  but  none  dared  give  ex- 
pression to  this  feeling  for  fear  of  contempt ;  for,  among 
them,  it  is  a  proof  of  bravery  to  torment  a  prisoner  cru- 
elly, and  a  mark  of  cowardice  to   show  compassion  for 


icrs. 


One  evening,   when,   for   the  last  time,  they  were 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


127 


burning  the  third  finger  of  my  right  hand,  instead  of 
singing,  as  they  bade  me,  I  intoned  the  Miserere,  but 
in  so  horrible  a  voice  that  I  alarmed  them.  They  all 
listened  with  attention,  and  the  one  that  was  burning 
me  then  remitted  some  of  the  cruelty  with  which  he 
had  begun  ;  yet  he  continued  for  fear  of  being  laughed 
at.  I  thought  my  last  hour  had  come,  so  great  was  the 
excess  of  my  pain.  I  began  to  exhort  our  Huron  pris- 
oners to  suffer  with  courage,  and,  above  all,  by  a  senti- 
ment of  faith,  telling  them  that  the  hope  of  Paradise 
delivered  me  from  the  fear  of  death.  They  promised 
to  do  so,  and  two  of  them,  who  were  soon  after  roasted 
at  a  slow  fire  and  eaten,  kept  their  word.  I  had  heard 
their  confessions  before  their  execution. 

It  is  a  great  torment  to  be  bound  tight  with  cords, 
and  I  had  not  yet  well  understood  it,  when  meditat- 
ing on  tiic  passion  of  our  Lord.  In  this  position,  it 
was  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to  close  my  eyes,  and 
yet  they  left  me  thus  the  whole  night.  At  daybreak, 
I  prayed  some  one  to  unbind  me;  if  he  perceived 
that  the  eyes  of  others  were  upon  him,  he  ridiculed, 
instead  of  relieving  me,  so  as  not  to  draw  upon  him- 
self the  reproach  of  cowardice,  but,  when  he  could  do 
it  unseen,  I  was  actually  relieved. 

Certain  it  is  that,  had  they  all  been  cruel  to  the  same 
degree,  I  should  have  died  of  hunger ;  for,  not  having 
the  use  of  my  hands,  food  had  to  be  given  to  me. 
Many,  instead  of  putting  into  my  mouth  the  kind  of 
polenta,  which  was  my  food,  let  it  fall  on  my  breast, 
or  threw  hot  coals  on  my  skin ;  but  others,  moved  with 
compassion,  came  and  threw  them  off  nn  the^  crrnnn/l  ot,;i 
gave  me,  though  sparirgly,  wherewith  to  maintain  life. 


ns 


PERILS     OF     THE 


The  last  question  was  this :  "  Whv  did  I  not  labor  to 
render  them  more  humane  ?  "  To  seek  to  render  them 
more  humane  is  to  provoke  them.  I  told  them,  one 
day,  that  my  bonds  were  too  tight,  and  that  I  should 
die  by  that  torture,  and  not  by  fire  as  they  threatened. 
The  consequence  was,  that  they  drew  the  cords  tighter. 
"  Well,"  said  they,  then  laughing  at  me,  "  are  you 
better  off  now  ?  *'  making,  as  is  their  wont,  a  frequent 
use  of  bitter  irony. 

I  have  forgotten  to  say  that  they  did  not  leave  me 
in  the  evening  till  I  expected  to  die  that  very  night, 
so  feeble  did  I  feel ;  yet,  by  a  special  providence  of 
God,  no  sooner  had  they  unbound  me  in  the  morn- 
ing than  I  closed  my  eyes,  and  dreamt  that  I  was  per- 
fectly healed.  Although  I  endeavored  to  banish  this 
thought,  as  a  temptation  capable  of  diverting  me  from 
the  salutary  thought  of  death,  and,  in  sleep,  several 
times  made  the  reflection  that  it  was  but  a  dream,  I 
was  unable  to  convince  myself  of  it,  and,  on  waking, 
examined  whether  it  was  really  so  or  not. 

This   thought,  dream   though  it  was,  so  roused  my 
courage  that,  after  one  or  two   hours'  rest,  I  felt  full  of 
life  and  vigor  to  suffer  as  I  did  the  first  day. 
Here  ends  the  letter. 


The  missionary  who  wrote  this  letter  can  give  still 
another  proof  of  the  dangers  which  beset  these  voyages 
from  this  race  of  brigands.  In  four  voyages,  which 
obedience  and  the  wants  of  the  mission  required  him  to 
make  at  different  times  into  those  parts,  he  fell  in  with 
them  three  times,  and  was  wounded  by  them  anew. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


129 


, 


Thus  does  Father  Bressani  modestly,  and  under  the  cover  of 
an  anonyme,  relate  his  captivity  and  perils ;  but  we  will  be  pardoned 
for  adding  a  few  words  as  to  his  subsequent  labors. 

Father  Bressani  had  not,  however,  abandoned  his  Canadian  mission  j 
BuflTerings  had  not  alarmed  him ;  they  only  bound  him  more  closely  to 
that  field  of  his  choice.     He  returned  immediately  to  Quebec,  and, 
having  been  present  at  a  treaty  of  peace,  concluded  with  the  Mohawks 
on  the  17th  of  July,  1645,  set  out  in  the  fall  for  the  Huron  mission. 
"There,"  says  Father  Ilaguenau,  then  Superior  of  the  Missionaries  in 
that  country,  "  his  mutilated  head,  his  mangled  hands,  his  body  cov- 
ered with  wounds,  rendered  him,  from  his  very  coming,   a    better 
preacher  than  us  all."    He  remained  here,  laboring  with  all  zeal,  till 
1648,  when,  foremost  in  the  hour  of  danger,  he  set  out  for  Quebec 
yfith  a  party,  who  attempted  to  reach  Quebec,  and  open  a  communi- 
cation with  that  post,  for  the  Iroquois  were  again  ravaging  the  coun- 
try.   Almost  in  sight  of  Three  Rivers  they  were   attacked  by  the 
Mohawks,  but  the  Hurons  were  prepared,  and  the  assailants  paid 
bitterly  for  their  rashness,  the  whole  Mohawk  party  was  taken,  cut  to 
pieces,  and  the  Hurons  and  their  missionaries  entered  Three  Rivers  in 
triumph.    Proceeding  to  Quebec,  Father  Bressani  was  joined  by 
Father  Gabriel  Lalemant,  the  future  martyr.  Father  James  Bonin, 
Father  Adrian  Grelon,  who  died  in  China,  and  Father  Adrian  Daran, 
and  with  these  proceeded,  in  August,  to  the  Huron  country.     Arriv- 
ing, they  found  that  the  Iroquois,  both  Mohawks  and  Senecas,  had 
burst  upon  the  Huron  villages,  destroyed  Teananstayae,  and  massacred 
the  missionary.  Father  Anthony  Daniel.    The  missionaries  rallied  the 
survivors  around  them,  but  when,  in  the  following  spring,  the  Iroquois 
destroyed  the  towns  of  St.  Ignatius  and  St.  Louis,  butchering  Father 
Lalemant  and  Father  Brebeuf,  the  Huron  nation  dispersed.     Father 
Bressani  proceeded  with  a  part  to  an  island  on  Lake  Huron,  now  called 
Charity  Island,  but,  as  sickness  and  want  soon  thinned  their  ranks,  he 
descended  to  Quebec  again,  in  the  fall  of  1649,  with  a  part  of  them. 
He  reached  his  destination,  but  could  never  return ;  in  the  following 
year,  however,  he  set  out  with  a  strong  party  to  escort  to  Quebec  all 
the  Hurons  who  would  emigrate  to  the  Lower  St.  I  -  yrence.     On 
thfi  Ottawa  they  were  attacked  by  the  Mohawks.    Fu^xer  Bressani, 
,T....  g..,v  liiv  Uiuitu,  icCcivcu  uiTcc  uiTu^vs  III  iiie  heaa,  ana  narrowly 
escaped  death.    The  Mohawks  were  entirely  routed,  and  soon  after 


I 


ISO 


PERILS     OF     THB 


Father  Bressani  an'  »>w  party  met  the  Ilurons  descending,  with  all 
their  miasionaries. 

The  Huron  mifltion  being  thus  in  a  measure  destroyed,  two  Fathers 
iufficed  for  the  few  who  survived,  and  settled  near  Quebec.  Many 
were  thus  unemployed,  and  such  as  were  worn  down  by  toil  and  suf- 
fering were  sent  back  to  Europe.  Father  Bressani  was  one  of  these. 
He  set  out  for  France  on  the  first  of  November,  1650,  and,  recovering 
his  health  and  strength,  labored  many  years  as  a  zealous  missionary 
in  the  cities  and  towns  of  Italy,  with  a  success  due  less  to  his  eloquence 
than  to  his  quality  of  a  Confessor  of  Jesus  Christ,  bearing  the  glorious 
marks  of  his  apostolate. 

In  1653,  he  published  an  account  of  the  Huron  mission,  of  which  a 
translation  has  recently  appeared  at  Montreal :  •  and  at  last,  full  of 
years  and  merits,  he  retired  to  Florence,  and  died  in  the  novitiate  in 
that  city  on  the  9th  of  September,  1672. 

•  Breve  Relatione  d'Alouni  Mission!.  Maoerata,  1653.  Relation  Abregee 
de  Quelques  Missions  par  le  Rev.  Pere  F.  J.  Bressani,  traduit  par  le  Rev. 
Pere  Felix  Martin,  S.  J.  Montreal,  1853. 


VOYAGES 


or 


REV.  FATHER  EMMANUEL  CRESPEL, 


m 


CANADA, 

AND     BIS 

SniPWRECK, 

WHILE    RETURNING    TO    FRANCE. 

PUBLISHED    BY 

SIEU.H    LOUIS    CRESPEL, 

HIS     BKOTHER. 


PRANKFORT-ON-THE-MEYN. 

1742. 


i 


DEDICATION. 


13S 


DEDICATION. 

To  His  Excellency,  Don  Christopher  de  Portocarrero, 
Cxuznian  Luna,  Pacheco,  Enriquez  de  Almanza,  Funez 
de  V.llalpando,  Aragon  and  Monrey  ;  Count  of  Mon- 
tijo.  Lord  of  the  town  of  Moquer  ;   Marquis    of    Al- 
gava,  ViUanueva  del  Fresno  and  of  Barcarota;  Count 
of  Fuentiduena;  Marquis   of  Valderabano,  Ossera,  and 
Castaneda ;    Lord  of  the  towns    of  Adrada,    Guetor- 
daxar,  Vierlas.  Crespa  and    Palacios;    Grand  Marshal 
of  Castile;  Grand  Bailli  of  Seville;  Hereditary  Got- 
ernor  of  the  Castle  and  Fortress  of  Guadix ;  Princi- 
pal Captain  of  the  Perpetual  Company  of  a  Hundred 
Gentlemen  attached  to  the  House  of  Castile ;  Gentle- 
man of  the  Chamber  to  His  Catholic  Majesty ;  Presi- 
dent of  the  Supreme   Council  of  the  Indies ;  Grand 
Esquire  of  the  Queen ;  Knight  of  the  Illustrious  Order 
of  the  Golden  Fleece  ;  Grandee  of  Spain  ;  Ambassador 
Extraordinary  of  His  Catholic  Majesty  to  His  Imperial 
Majesty :  ^ 

My  Lord,— In  presenting  the  work  to  your  Excell 
lency,  I  venture  to  assure  you  that  the  subject  is  truly 
worthy  01  you.  Th.  obedience  and  submission  of  Abra- 
ham  to  the  orders  of  Providence,  the  zeal  and  courage 
of  Moses,  m  leadmg  the  Israelites  into  the  desert,  the 
patience  and  resignation  of  Job.  in  «nfro>.-«„  .u„  — -i  i 
which  God  wished  to  try  him,  and-what  is  more  admi 

13 


;■#■•-. 


;  ^m 


I 


m 


134 


DEDICATION. 


rable— the  vigilance,  and  especially  the  charity,  with- 
out which  St.  Paul  deemed  himself  nothing,  are  displayed 
in  the  course  of  this  relation  which  I  present  to  Your 

Excellency. 

Can  so  many  virtues  displease  Your  Lordship,  who 
admires  them  in  others,  and  who,  ever  disposed  to  prac- 
tise them,  merit  having  them  admired  in  yourself? 

This  work  belongs,  then,  to  Your  Excellency,  and 
should  belong  to  no  other.  I  do  my  duty  in  dedicating 
it  to  you,  and  what  pleasure  have  I  not  in  doing  my  duty  ? 

This  would  be  the  place.  My  Lord,  to  do  justice  to 
all  the  qualities  which  so  advantageously  distinguish 
Your  Excellency's  mind  and  heart ;  but  I  fear  to  wound 
that  modesty  which  renders  these  qualities  still  more 

admirable. 

I  shall  content  myself,  then.  My  Lord,  with  saying, 
that  all  who  have  the  honor  to  belong  to  you,  bless 
every  instant  of  the  day  which  crowned  their  fel'city  in 
bringing  them  to  Your  Excellency. 

Their  attachment  is  your  eulogy,  the  only  one  worthy 
of  men  who,  like  you.  My  Lord,  make  it  an  occupation 
to  complete  the  happiness  of  those  who  belong  to  you. 

This  is  not  all.  My  Lord.  No  one  can  know  you 
without  gladly  paying  a  tribute  of  his  heart  and  admi- 
ration ;  the  tribute  we  cannot  but  pay  to  virtue. 

May  Your  Excellency,  then,  be  ever  like  yourself; 
may  you,  for  the  glory  of  your  august  Master,  and  the 
good  of  your  country,  be  ever  in  the  ministry,  which  you 
discharge  with  so  much  distinction.  Men  like  you. 
My  Lord,  should  never  die,  and  death  could  do  nothing 
against  Your  Excellency,  if  public  desires  were  accom- 
plished. 


DEDICATION. 


135 


For  myself,  My  Lord,  what  thanks  do  I  not  owe 
Father  Crespel,  my  brother,  for  having  enabled  me  to 
tell  the  world  that  all  my  wishes  centre  in  desiring 
Your  Excellency's  preservation  ;  and  beg  you  to  accept 
the  most  profound  respect  with  which 
I  have  the  honor  to  be.  My  Lord, 

Your  Excellency's  most  humble  and 
Most  obedient  servant, 

Louis  Crespel. 


editor's    preface. 


IWIj 


•■  f.>  - 


EDITOR'S    PREFACE. 

This  work  would   surely  need  no  preface,  had  the 
author  intended  it  for  publication  ;   but,  as  his  only  aim 
in  writing  was  to  satisfy  my  curiosity,  I   cannot  forbear 
giving  the  reader  my  reasons  for  publishing  it.     I  had 
shown  the  manuscript  to  several  persons  whom  taste 
and  talent  distinguish  more  than  their  rank  and  birth ; 
all  advised  me  to  present  it,  assuring  me  that  the  public 
would   thank   me    for  doing  so.     My  affection  for  my 
brother,  and  my  desire  of  pleasing  the  public,  convinced 
me  that  I  ought  to  follow  this  counsel  ;  I  hope  my  ready 
acquiescence  will  not  be  treated  as  folly  or  bHndness.    At 
all  events,  my  motives  were  laudable,   and  I  am  sure  of 
finding  favor  with  those  who  do  not  seek  to  cast  ridicule 
on  men's  intentions. 

I  also  believe  that  I  should  tell  how  and  for  what 
reason  these  letters  were  written  ;  this  will  be  an  ex- 
cuse for  Father  Crespel,  my  brother,  if  his  style  seems 
to  deserve  censure,  and  if  he  does  not  seem  to  enter  into 

sufficient  detail. 

I  had  long  pressed  him  to  tell  me  what  had  happened 
to  him  in  his  voyages  ;  for  several  months  he  resisted  ; 
but,  wearied  doubtless  with  my  frequent  importunity, 
he  sent  me,  by  one  of  my  brothers  now  in  Russia,  a 
Relation  which  I  found  too  succinct.     I  complained  of 


EDITOR    S      PREFACE. 


137 


lad  the 
ily  aim 
forbear 
I  had 
n  taste 
I  birth; 
!  public 
for  my 
tivinced 
y  ready 
;ss.  At 
I  sure  of 
ridicule 

or  what 

an  ex- 

e  seems 

ater  into 

appened 
esisted  ; 
)rtunity, 
Russia,  a 
[ained  of 


his  indolence  in  drawing  me  up  only  a  journal ;  I  asked 
him  for  something  more  circumstantial,  and,  to  induce 
him  not  to  refuse  me,  I  told  him — what  was  true — that 
many  persons  to  whom  I  had  read  his  letter,  regretted 
that  he  had  made  it  so  short,  and  that  they  had  begged 
me  to  entreat  him  to  send  me  a  more  detailed  Relation 
of  his  travels  in  the  New  World,  and  his  shipwreck 
while  returning  to  France ;  he  yielded  to  my  wish,  and 
during  his  stay  at  Paderborn,  wrote  the  letters  which  I 
publish. 

It  would  be  wronging  my  brother  to  suspect  him  of 
exaggeration  in  his  narrative.  Those  by  whom  he  has 
the  honor  of  being  known,  are  aware  what  a  lover  of 
truth  he  is,  and  that  he  would  die  sooner  than  betray  or 
disguise  it ;  moreover,  the  chai-acter  with  which  he  is 
invested  does  not  suppose  an  impostor,  and  I  can  say 
that  my  brother  has  never  rendered  himself  unworthy 
of  it.  Lastly,  there  are  still  many  companions  of , his 
travels  and  his  shipwreck ;  would  an  honest  man  expose 
himself  to  be  contradicted  by  one  who  unjderwent  the 
same  fatigues,  and  ran  the  same  dangers  ?  It  is  all  that 
one  interested  in  imposing  could  do,  and  even  he 
would  EXPOSE  himself  only  tremblingly,  and  in  a  coun- 
try remote  from  all  who  could  expose  his  knavery. 

When  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  my  brother  in 
this  city,  at  the  passage  of  the  French  army,  com- 
manded by  Marshal  de  Mailleboy,  I  had  no  little  trouble 
in  obtaining  his  permission  to  publish  the  letters;  they 
were  written  for  me  alone ;  and  it  is  known  that, 
among  brothers,  no  ceremony  exists.  My  proposition 
at  first  shocked  him  All  men  have  their  share  of  self- 
love  ;  they  do  not  like  to  speak  before  all  the  world 


12* 


138 


EDITOR    S     PKEFACE. 


as  they  speak  to  their  friends ;  the  fear  of  finding  crit- 
ics makes  them   labor  with   much  more   care  on  works 
intended  for  the  public,  and  it  is  rendering  one's  self 
criminal  in  their  eyes  to  expose  to  broad  day  what  was 
made  only  to  be  seen  privately.      My   b;other,  how- 
ever, at  last  gave  way.      I  showed  him  lii-;c  a  man  in 
his  state  should  lay  aside  all  self-love ;  and   I  promised 
him,  at  the  same  time,  to  make  known  his  repugnance 
to  offering  a  work  which  he  deemed   unworthy  of  him. 
He  allowed  me   then  to   publish  his  Kelation,  on  my 
giving  my  word  that  I  would  neither   add  nor  retrench 
any  circumstance.     I  was  far  from  thinking  otherwise  ; 
so  that  all   may  rest   assured   that  all  they  are  about  to 
read  is  conformable  to  the  most  exact  truth,  and  that  no 
one  may  alter  it  by  imagined  additions,  or  impose  on 
the  public,  I  shall   take  care  to  sign  all  copies  which 
agree  with  the  original. 


PERILS     OF     THE     OCEAN,     ETC. 


139 


cnt- 
orks 

self 
was 
tiow- 
n  in 
tiised 
lance 
him. 

my 
ench 
vise ; 
lUt  to 
at  no 
le  on 
vhich 


CHAPTER   VI. 

TOTAGES    AND    SHIPWRECKS    OF  FATHER    EMMANUEL    CRESPEL, 
BBOOLIiECT  UISSIONARr   IN   NEW  YORK,   CANADA,   AND  THE   WEST. 

LETTER    I. 

My  Dear  Brother  : — You  have  so  long  evinced  a 
desire  to  know  the  details  of  the  voyage  I  formerly 
made  to  Canada,  that  fearing  to  give  you  grounds  for 
suspecting  my  friendship,  if  I  continued  to  decline 
acceding  to  your  desire,  I  directed  one  of  my  brothers  to 
send  you  a  relation  of  all  that  befel  me.  You  tell  me 
that  you  have  received  it,  and,  at  the  same  time,  com- 
plain that  it  is  too  succinct,  and  that  you  would  be  glad 
to  have  it  more  detailed.  I  love  you  too  well  not  to 
make  it  a  pleasure  to  please  you,  but  I  will  divide  my 
relation  into  several  letters.  A  single  one  would  be  too 
long,  and  would  doubtless  tire  you.  The  mind  do^s  not 
always  keep  pace  with  the  heart.  I  would  perhaps 
become  tedious  if  I  spoke  too  long  of  other  subjects 
than  our  friendship. 

Do  not  expect  to  find  this  relation  sustained  by  eleva- 
tion of  style,  force  of  expression,  and  varied  imagery ; 
these  graces  of  genius  are  not  natural  to  me,  and  besides 
scarcely  suit  anything  but  fiction.  Truth  has  no  need 
of  ornament,  to  be  relished  by  those  who  really  love  it ; 


I 


140 


PERILS     OF     THE 


it  is  even  difficult  to  recognize  it,  when  presented  with 
the  dress  usually  thrown  around  the  false  to  give  it 
some  resemblance  to  her. 

You  must  remember,  that  towards  the  close  of  the 
year  1723,  I  was  still  at  Avesnes,  in  Haynaut ;  I  then 
received,  from  my  Superiors,  permission  to  go  to  the 
New  World,  as  I  had  long  asked  to  do,  and  indeed,  it 
would  have  been  a  great  mortification  had  I  been 
refused. 

I  set  out,  then,  on  the  S5th  of  January,  1724 ;  pass- 
ing by  Cambray,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  embracing  you, 
and,  on  arriving  at  Paris,  took  an  obedience  from  the' 
Rev.  Father  Julian  Guesdron,  Provincial  of  St.  Denis, 
on  whom  the  missions  of  New  France  depend. 

It  would  be  useless  to  speak  to  you  of  Paris ;  you 
know  it  better  than  I,  and  you  know  by  experience  that 
it  deserves,  in  every  way,  to  be  the  first  city  in  the 
world. 

On  the  first  of  May,  I  started  for  Rochelle,  which  I 
reached  on  the  18th  of  that  month.  I  did  not  make  a 
long  stay  there,  for,  after  providing  all  that  was  necessary 
for  the  voyage,  I  embarked  on  the  King's  vessel,  the 
Chameau,  commanded  by  the  naval  lieutenants,  de  Tylly 
and  Meschain. 

The  24th  of  July,  the  day  that  we  set  sail,  was 
marked  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Robert,  just  going  out  as 
Intendant  of  Canada.  He  was  a  gallant  fellow,  appar- 
ently endowed  with  every  quality  needed  to  fill  worthily 
the  post  confided  to  him. 

After  a  rather  pleasant  voyage  of  two  months  and  a 
half,  we  arrived  before  Quebec;  I  remained  there  till 
1T26,  and  iemaiked  aothiug  in  particular,  beyond  what 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


141 


travellers  say,  and  what  you  may  read  in  their  accounts. 
On  the  17th  of  March,  in  the  year  of  my  departure 
from  Quebec,  Mr.  de  la  Croix  de  St.  Valier,  Bishop  of 
that  city,  conferred  the  priesthood  on  me,  and  soon 
after  gave  me  a  mission  or  parish  called  Sorel,  south  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  between  Three  Rivers  and  Montreal. 

I  was  taken  from  my  parish,  where  I  had  spent  two 
years,  to  become  chaplain  of  a  party  of  four  hundred 
French,  whom  the  Marquis  de  Beauharnois  had  united 
with  eight  or  nine  hundred  Indians  of  fwery  kind  of 
nation.  There  were  especially,  Iroquois,  Hurons,  Nep- 
issings  and  Ottawas,  to  whom  the  Rev.  Mr.  Pellet, 
secular  priest,  and  Father  de  la  Bretonniere,  Jesuit, 
acted  as  chaplains.  These  troops  commanded  by  Mr. 
de  Ligneries,  were  commissioned  to  go  and  destroy  a 
nation  called  the  Foxes,  whose  chief  village  lay  about 
four  hundred  and  fifty  leagues  from  Montreal. 

We  set  out  on  the  t5th  of  June,  1728,  and  for  nearly 
one  hundred  and  fifty  leagues,  ascended  the  great  river 
which  bears  the  name  of  the  Ottawas,  and  which  is  full 
of  rapids  and  portages.  We  left  it  at  Matawan,  to 
take  another  leading  to  Lake  Nipissing,  or  Mipissing ; 
this  river  was  thirty  leagues  long,  and,  like  the  Ottawa, 
it  is  interrupted  by  rapids  and  portages.  From  this 
river  we  entered  the  lake,  which  is  about  eight  leagues 
wide,  and  from  this  lake,  French  River  quickly  bore 
us  into  Lake  Huron,  into  which  it  empties,  after  a  rapid 
course  of  over  thirty  leagues. 

As  it  is  impossible  for  many  to  go  together  on  these 
little  rivers,  it  was  agreed  that  those  who  went  first 
should  wait  for  the  others  at  the  entrance  of  Lake  Hu- 
ron, at  a  place  called  Laprairie,  and  which  is,  in  fact,  a 


142 


PERILS     OF     THE 


■ 


';.:'! 


I 


very  beautiful  prairie.  Here,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw 
the  deadly  rattle-snake ;  when  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you,  I  shall  speak  more  particularly  of  these 
animals  ;  enough  be  it  for  the  present,  to  say  that  none 
of  our  party  were  troubled  by  them. 

As  we  had  all  come  up  by  the  26th  of  July,  I  cele- 
brated Mass,  which  I  had  deferred  till  then,  and  the 
next  day  we  started  for  Michillima,  or  Missillima  Kinac, 
which  is  a  post  situated  between  Lakes  Huron  and 
Michigan.  Although  we  had  a  hundred  leagues  to 
make,  the  wind  was  so  favorable  that  we  reached  it  in 
less  than  six  days.  Here  we  remained  some  time  to 
repair  what  had  been  damaged  on  the  rapids  and  por- 
tages. I  here  blessed  the  standards,  and  buried  some 
soldiers  whom  sickness  or  fatigue  had  carried  off. 

On  the  10th  of  August,  we  set  out  from  Michillimak- 
inac,  and  entered  Lake  Michigan.  The  wind  which 
detained  us  there  two  days,  enabled  our  Indians  to  go 
to  hunt ;  they  brought  back  some  moose  and  reindeer, 
and  were  polite  enough  to  offer  us  some.  We  at  first 
excused  ourselves,  but  they  forced  us  to  accept  their 
present,  and  told  us,  that,  as  we  had  shared  with  them 
the  dangers  of  the  route,  it  was  fair  that  they  should 
share  with  us  the  good  things  they  had  found  ;  and  that 
they  would  not  deem  themselves  men,  if  they  acted 
otherwise  towards  other  men.  This  speech,  which  one 
of  our  men  translated  for  me,  quite  moved  me.  What 
humanity  in  savages !  how  many  men  in  Europe  would 
better  deserve  the  name  of  barbarian  than  these 
Americans ! 

This  generosity  of  our  Indians  merited,  on  our  part, 
indeed,  a  lively  gratitude ,  for,  as  we  had  met  no  good 


OCEAN      AND      WILDERNESS. 


148 


hunting-ground  for  some  time  past,  we  had  boon  com- 
pelled to  eat  only  pork ;  the  moose  and  reindeer  they 
gave  us  relieved  us  from  the  disgust  we  were  beginning 
to  feel  for  our  ordinary  food. 

On  the  1 1th  of  the  same  month,  we  continued  our 
route  to  the  Chicago  bend,  and,  while  crossing  thence 
to  Deathcape,  which  is  five  leagues  off,  a  squall  sur- 
prised us,  and  drove  on  shore  several  of  the  canoes  which 
failed  to  double  a  point  and  reach  shelter.  They  were 
dashed  to  pieces,  and  we  were  obliged  to  distribute  in 
the  other  canoes  the  men  who,  by  the  greatest  happiness 
in  the  world,  had  all  escaped  the  danger. 

The  next  day,  we  crossed  to  the  Menomonees  to 
invite  the  tribe  to  oppose  our  landing  ;  they  fell  into 
the  trap,  and  were  entirely  defeated. 

We  encamped,  on  the  following  day,  at  the  mouth  of 
a  river  called  la  Gasparde.  Here  our  Indians  entered 
the  woods,  and  soon  brought  iii  several  deer;  this  game 
is  very  common  at  this  place,  and  we  accordingly  laid 
in  a  stock  for  some  days. 

On  the  17th,  at  noon,  we  halted  till  evening,  so  as 
to  reach  the  Post  at  Green  Bay  only  at  night.  We 
wished  to  surprise  the  enemy,  whom  we  knew  to  be 
among  the  Sacs,  their  allies,  whose  village  is  near  Fort 
St.  Francis.  We  began  our  march  in  darkness,  and  at 
midnight  reached  the  mouth  of  Fox  river,  where  our 
fort  is  built.  As  soon  as  we  got  there,  Mr.  De  Lignerie 
sent  some  Frenchmen  to  the  Commandant  to  know 
whether  there  were  really  any  of  the  enemy  in  the  Sac 
village,  and,  learning  that  there  must  be,  he  sent  all  his 
Indians,  and  a  detachment  of  the  French,  over  the  river 
to  surround  the  viUage,  and  ordered  the  rest  of  the 


U4 


PERILS     OF     THE 


n, 


i;-' 


troops  to  enter  it.  With  all  our  precautions  to  conceal 
our  approach,  the  enemy  were  aware  of  it,  and  ail 
escaped  but  four.  These  were  made  a  present  to  our 
Indians,  who,  after  amusing  themselves  with  them, 
shot  them  to  death  with  arrows. 

I  witnessed  with  pain  this  horrible  sight,  and  could 
not  reconcile  with  the  sentiments  of  the  Indians  as  ex- 
pressed a  few  days  before  the  pleasure  they  took  in  tor- 
menting these  wretches  by  making  them  undergo  a  hun- 
dred deaths  before  depriving  them  of  life.  I  would 
have  liked  to  ask  them  whether  they  did  not  perceive 
as  well  as  I  this  contrariety,  and  show  them  what  I  saw 
blamable  in  their  course,  but  all  who  could  act  as  inter- 
preters for  me  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  defer  satisfying  my  curiosity  to  some 

other  time. 

After  this  little  coiiy  dc  main,  we  ascended  Fox 
River,  wliich  is  full  of  rapids,  and  has  a  course  of  thirty- 
five  or  forty  leagues.  On  the  24th  of  August,  we 
reached  the  Winnebago  village,  well  disposed  to  destroy 
all  whom  we  should  find  there,  but  their  flight  had  pre- 
ceded our  arrival,  and  all  we  could  do  was  to  burn  their 
cabins,  and  ravage  their  fields  of  Indian  corn  which 
affords  them  their  principal  nourishment. 

We  then  crossed  Little  Fox  Lake,  at  the  end  of 
which  we  encamped,  and,  the  next  day,  the  feast  of  St. 
Louis,  we  entered,  after  mass,  into  a  little  river  which 
led  us  to  a  kind  of  marsh,  on  the  bank  of  which  lies 
the  chief  village  of  those  whom  we  sought.  Their 
allies,  the  Sacs,  had  doubtless  warned  them  of  our 
approach  ;  they  did  not  think  proper  to  await  us,  and 
we  iound  m  tneu'  vuiage  uni;  aOxue  v-umwii,  v^  tt«v.u 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


145 


our  Indians  made  slaves,  and  an  old  man  whom  they 
burnt  at  the  stake,  without  any  apparent  repugnance  at 
the  commission  of  such  a  barbarous  action. 

Tliis  cruelty  seemed  more  marked  to  me  than  that 
M-hich  they  had  exercised  against  the  four  Indians 
whom  they  had  taken  in  the  Sac  town.  I  availed  my- 
self of  this  occasion  and  circumstance  to  satisfy  the  curi- 
osity which  I  mentioned  a  moment  ago. 

One  of  our  Frenchmen  understood  the  Iroquois 
language.  I  begged  him  to  tell  the  Indians  that  I 
was  surprised  to  see  them  take  so  much  pleasure  in 
tormenting  a  wretched  old  man,  that  the  right  of  war 
<Jid  not  extend  so  fiu-,  and  that  such  barbarity  seemed 
to  me  to  belie  the  principles  which  they  had  seemed 
to  entertain  for  all  men.  An  Iroquois  answered, 
and,  to  justify  his  comrades,  said  that,  when  they  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  they  received 
still  more  cruel  treatment,  and  that  it  was  their  cus- 
tom to  treat  their  enemies  as  they  themselves  would 
be  treated  if  conquered. 

I  would  have  wished  to  know  this  Indian's  language 
to  show  him  myself  what  was  defective  and  blamable  in 
his  reasoning ;  but  I  had  to  content  myself  with  repre- 
senting to   him   that  nature,   and  particularly  religion, 
required  us  to  be  humane   to  each  other  ;   that  modera- 
tion should  direct  us  in  every   thing  ;   that  the  pardon 
and  oblivion  of  injuries  done  us  is  a  virtue  whose  prac- 
tice is  expressly  enjoined  by  Heaven  ;  that  I  conceived 
that  they  ought  not  to  spare  the   Sacs   and  Foxes,  but 
that  they  should  deprive  them  of  life  only  as  rebels  and 
enemies  of  the  State,  and  not  as  their  private  enemies  ; 
that  their  vengeance  was  criminal;  that  to  descend  to 

18 


*.':■•"' "" 


\l" 


I 

I 


146 


PEUILS     OF     THE 


such  excesses  as  those  into  which  they  had  fallen  with 
regard  to  tbe  five  men  whose  lives  they  had  inhumanly 
prolonged  in  order  to  put  them  to  death  in  more  cruel 
torments  t\  as,  in  some  sort,  to  justify  the  barbarity  with 
which  they  reproached  their  enemies  ;  that  the  right  of 
war  simply  permitted  us  to  take  an  enemy's  life,  and 
not,  so  to  say,  to  become   drunk  in  his  blood,  and  to 
plunge  him  into    despair,  by   putting  him  to  death  in 
any  way  bat  that  of  arms,  or  in  any  place  but  that  of 
the  combat ;  lastly,  that  it  was  their  duty  to  give  the 
Sacs  and  Foxes  an  example  of  that  moderation  which  is 
the  part  of  a  good  heart,  and  which  draws  admiration 
and  love  on  the  Christian  religion,  and  consequently  on 
those  who  profess  it. 

I  do  not  know  whether  my  interpreter  translated  all 
that  I  have  just  said,  but  the  Indian  would  never  admit 
that  he  acted  on  a  false  principle  ;  I  was  going  to  give 
him  some  further  reasons  when  the  order  was  given  to 
advance  against  the  enemy's  last  fort.  This  post  is  sit- 
uated on  the  banks  of  a  little  river,  which  joins  an- 
other called  Wisconsin,  and  falls  into  the  Mississippi, 
thirty  leagues  off. 

We  found  no  one  there,  and,  as  we  had  no  orders  to 
go  further,  we  spent  some  days  in  laying  the  country 
waste,  so  as  to  cut  off  from  the  enemy  all  means  of  sub- 
sistence. This  country  is  fine  enough :  the  soil  is  fer- 
tile, game  common,  and  of  good  flavor  ;  the  nights  are 
very  cold,  and  the  day  extremely  hot.  I  will  speak 
to  you,  in  my  second  letter,  of  my  return  to  I^^ont- 
real,  and  of  what  happened  down  to  my  departure  for 
France.  I  wish  first  to  hear  from  you,  and  learn 
whether  you  find  this  sufficiently  detailed.     The  sequel 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS 


147 


of  my  relation  will  depend  on  your  answer,  and  I  shall 
omit  nothing  to  prove  the  tender  friendship  with  which 
I  am,  dear  brother,  your  affectionate  brother, 

Emmanuel  Cresi'el,  Recollect. 

Paderborn,  January  10th,  1742. 


LETTER  II. 

My  dear  Brother,— Nothing  can  be  more  flattering 
to  my  self-love  than  your  answer.  My  first  letter,  you 
say,  has  satisfied  many  intelligent  persons  to  whom  you 
showed  it,  and  excited  their  curiosity  to  such  a  degree 
that  they  are  extremely  impatient  to  see  the  rest  of  my 
travels.  This  desire,  of  which  I  feel  all  the  advantage, 
might  injure  me  if  I  delayed  to  gratify  it.  Things  too 
long  expected  lose  their  value,  and  no  one  should  fear 
this  more  than  myself. 

After  the  expedition  of  which  I  have   spoken,  if,  in- 
deed, we  can  give   that  name  to  an  absolutely  useless 
step,  we   resumed  the  route  for  Mont  real,  from  which 
city  we  were  about  four   hundred  nnd  fifty  leagues  dis- 
tant.    On  our  way,  we  burnt  the  fcrt  at  the  bay,  because, 
being  too  near   the   enemy,  it   would  not   have   been  a 
safe  retreat  to  the  French   left   on  guai'd  there.     The 
Foxes,  roused  by  the  ravage  of  their  country,  and  con- 
vinced that  we   would   not  venture  a   second  time  into 
their  territory  in  the  uncertainty  of  finding  them,  would 
have  obliged  our  troops   to   shut  them.sclves  up  in  the 
fort,  would  have   attacked,  and  perhaps  beaten    them 
there.  ▼  When  we    were   at    Micheillemakiuak,   the 


■ 


t 


i 


-i 


148 


PERILS     OF     THE 


i  i 


commandant  gave  a  carte-blanche  to  all.  We  had  still 
three  hundred  leagues  to  go,  and  we  should  undoubt- 
edly have  run  out  of  provisions,  if  we  had  not  used 
every  effort  to  expedite  our  movements.  The  wind 
favored  us  in  passing  Lake  Huron,  but  we  had  almost  con- 
stant rain  while  ascending  French  river,  traversing  Lake 
Nipissing,  and  on  the  little  river  Matawan ;  it  stopped 
when  we  entered  the  Ottawa.  I  cannot  express  the 
rapidity  with  which  we  descended  that  great  river; 
imaginaticn  alone  can  form  a  just  idea.  As  I  was  with 
men  whom  experience  had  rendered  skilful  in  shooting 
the  rapids,  I  was  not  among  the  last  at  Montreal, 
which  I  reached  on  the  28th  of  September,  and  left 
only  in  the  spring,  in  obedience  to  an  order  given  me 
to  descend  to  Quebec. 

I  had  no  sooner  arrived  in  that  city  than  our  commis- 
sary appointed  me  to  the  post  of  Niagara,  a  new  estab- 
lishment, with  a  fortress  situated  at  the  entrance  of  a 
beautiful  river  that  bears  the  same  name,  and  which 
is  formed  by  the  famous  falls  of  Niagara,  south  of 
Lake  Ontario,  and  six  leagues  from  our  fort.  I  accord- 
ingly again  bent  my  way  to  Montreal,  and  thence  passed 
to  Frontenac  or  Catarakouy,  which  is  a  fort  built 
at  the  entrance  of  Lake  Ontario.  Although  it  is  only 
eighty  leagues  from  Montreal,  we  were  fifteen  days  in 
reaching  it  on  account  of  the  rapids  we  had  to  pass. 
There  we  waited  some  time  for  favorable  winds ;  for, 
at  this  place,  we  leave  the  canoes  to  take  a  vessel  which 
the  king  has  had  built  expressly  to  run  to  Niagara. 
This  vessel,  which  gauges  about  eighty  tons,  is  very 
light,  and  sometimes  makes  her  trip,  which  is  seventy 
leagues,  in  less  than  thirty-six  hours.     The  lake  is  very 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


149 


safe,  free  from  shoals,  and  very  deep ;  about  the  middle 
I  sounded  with  nearly  a  hundred  fathoms  of  line,  but 
could  not  touch  bottom ;  its  width  is  about  thirty 
leagues,  and  its  length  ninety. 

We  set  sail  the  22d  of  July,  and  reached  our  post  on 
the  morning  of  the  g7th.     I  found  the  spot  very  agree- 
able, the  chase  and  fishery  are  productive,  the  forest  of 
extreme  beauty  and   full,  especially  of  walnut,  chestnut, 
oak,  elm  and  maple,  such  as  we  never  see  in  France. 
The  fever  soon  damped  the  pleasure  we  enjoyed  at 
Niagara,  and  troubled  us  till  fall  set  in,  which  dissipated 
the  unhealthy  air.     We  spent  the  winter  calmly  enough 
I  may  say  agreeably,  had  not  the  vessel,  which  should 
have  brought  us  supplies,  been  compelled,  after  stand- 
mg  a  terrible  tempest  on  the  lake,  to  put  back  to  Fron- 
tenac,    and   left   us   under   the   necessity   of  drinking 
nothing  but  water. 

As  the  season  was  far  advanced,  it  did  not  venture 
to  set  sail  again,  and  we  got  our  supplies  only  on  the 
first  of  May. 

From  Martinmas  the  failure  of  wine  prevented  my 
saying  Mass,  but,  as  soon  as  the  vessel  got  in,  the  garri- 
son  went  to  their  Easter  duties,  and  I  started  for  Detroit 
on  the  invitation  of  a  religious  of  my  order,  who  was 
missionary  there.  It  is  a  hundred  leagues  from  Niagara 
to  this  post,  which  is  situated  six  leagues  from  the  en- 
trance of  a  veiy  beautiful  river,  about  fifteen  leagues 
from  the  extremity  of  Lake  Erie. 

This  lake,  which  may  be  a  hundred  leagues  long,  and 
some  thirty  wide,  is   very  flat,   and  consequently  bad 

when  the  winrl   fc  liirpVs  •  frtT.ro>.'-1"  <-i ti-      i  ■• 

.„    iwgjss  ,    vOrrcirao    tHc;  xiurtll,  aDOVC  1116 

Great  Point  d'  Ecorres,  it  is  bounded  by  very  high  sand 

18» 


r"T, 


150 


PERILS     OF     THE 


If 
i 


■I 


i 


hills ;  so  that,  if  surprised  by  the  winds  in  portions 
"where  there  is  no  landing-place,  and  the^e  are  only 
every  three  leagues,  experience  has  shown  that  the 
vessel  must  infallibly  be  lost. 

I  arrived  at  Detroit  on  the  17th  day  after  my  depart- 
ure ;  the  religious  whom  I  went  to  visit,  (Father  Bona- 
venture,)  received  me  in  a  manner  which  wonderfully 
characterized  the  pleasure  we  usually  feel  on  finding  a 
countryman  in  a  far  country ;  add  to  this,  we  were  of 
the  same  order,  and  the  same  motive  had  led  us  from 
our  native  land.  I  was,  therefore,  dear  to  him,  for 
more  reasons  than  one,  and  he  neglected  nothing  to 
show  me  how  pleased  he  was  with  my  visit.  He  was  a 
man  a  little  older  than  myself,  and  highly  esteemed  for 
the  success  of  his  apostolic  labors.  His  house  was 
agreeable  and  coi..modious ;  it  was,  so  to  speak,  his  own 
work,  and  the  abode  of  virtues. 

The  time  not  employed  in  the  duties  of  his  office,  he 
divided  between  study  and  the  labors  of  the  field ;  he 
had  some  books  and  the  selection  he  had  made  gave 
some  idea  of  his  purity  of  life  and  extensive  knowledge. 
The  language  of  the  country  was  quite  familiar  to  him, 
and  the  ease  with  which  he  spoke  it,  endeared  him  to 
many  Indians  who  communicated  to  him  their  reflections 
on  all  sorts  of  matters,  and  especially  on  religion. 
Affability  wins  confidence,  and  no  one  deserved  it  more 
than  this  religious. 

He  had  carried  his  complaisance  towards  some  of  the 
people  of  Detroit,  so  far  as  to  teach  them  French. 
Among  these,  I  found  several  whose  good  sense,  solid 
and  profound  judgment,  would  have  made  them  admi- 
rable men,  even  in  France,  had  theu*  minds  been  culti- 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


151 


vated  by  study.  During  the  whole  time  I  spent  with 
this  religious,  I  found  daily  new  reasons  to  envy  him  a 
lot  like  his.  In  one  word,  he  was  as  happy  as  men 
should  be  not  to  blush  at  their  happiness. 

After  doing,  at  Detroit,  what  had  led  me  thither,  I 
returned  to  Niagara,  and  remained  there  two  years  more ; 
during  this  time  I  learned  the  Iroquois  and  Ottawa  lan- 
guages, in  order  to  converse  with  the  people.  This 
study  at  first  afforded  me  the  pleasure  of  conversing 
with  the  Indians,  when  I  went  to  walk  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  post ;  in  the  sequel  you  will  see  that  it  was 
of  great  use  to  me,  and  actually  saved  my  life. 

When  my  thi-ec  years'  residence  at  Niagara  had  ex- 
pired, I  was  relieved  according  to  custom,  and  went  to 
spend  the  winter  in  our  convent  at  Quebec. 

It  was  a  great  comfort  for  me  to  pass  that  rigorous 
season  there ;  if  we  had  not  what  is  superfluous,  at 
least  we  never  wanted  what  is  necessary,  and,  what  is 
not  the  least  consolation,  we  receive  news  from  home, 
and  have  persons  to  converse  with. 

Early  in  the  spring,  the  chaplain  of  Fort  Frontenac 
fell  sick,  and  our  Commissary  appointed  me  to  go  and 
take  his  place.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  situation 
of  this  post ;  we  live  agreeably  there,  and  game  is  found 
in  abundance  in  the  marshes,  by  which  Fort  Frontenac 
is  surrounded. 

I  remained  here  only  two  years,  when  I  was  recalled 
to  Montreal,  and  soon  after  sent  to  Crown  Point  in  Lake 
Champlain.  It  will  not  be  amiss,  I  think,  to  tell  you 
why  this  point  bears  the  name  of  Crown  or  Scalp. 
TT  licii  Liic  ixiuu-iiio  xviii  mi  J  uiiu  Oil  liiuir  cxpeainons,  it 
is  their  custom  to  take  off  his  scalp,  which  they  bring 


I 


152 


PERILS     OP     THE 


i 


in  on  top  of  a  pole,  to  prove  that  they  have  defeated 
the  enemy.  This  ceremony,  or,  if  you  like,  this  custom, 
began  on  this  point,  after  a  kind  of  combat,  in  which 
many  Indians  lost  their  scalps,  which  gave  name  to  the 
place  where  the  battle  was  fought. 

Lake  Champlain  is  some  fifty-five  leagues  long  ;  it  is 
studded  with  very  beautiful  islands,  and  its  water,  which 
is  very  pure,  makes  it  abound  in  fish.  The  fort  which 
we  have  in  this  place,  bears  the  name  of  St.  Frederic ; 
its  situation  is  advantageous,  for  it  is  built  on  an  elevated 
point  about  fifteen  leagues  distant,  northerly  from  the 
extremity  of  the  lake ;  it  is  the  key  of  the  colony  on 
that  side,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  side  of  the  English,  who 
are  only  twenty  or  thirty  leagues  off. 

I  arrived  there,  on  the  17th  of  November,  1735. 
The  season,  which  began  to  be  severe,  multiplied  the 
difficulties  of  our  way ;  it  is  one  of  the  most  painful  I 
ever  made  in  Canada,  if  I  except  my  shipwreck,  as  you 
may  judge. 

The  day  of  my  departure  from  Chambly,  a  post 
about  forty  leagues  from  St.  Frederic,  we  were  obliged 
to  sleep  out,  and  during  the  night  about  a  foot  of  snow 
fell.  The  winter  continued  as  it  set  in,  and,  although 
we  were  lodged,  we  did  not  suflfer  less  than  if  we  were 
in  the  open  fields.  The  building  where  they  put  us 
was  not  yet  finished ;  we  were  only  partially  sheltered 
from  the  rain,  and  the  walls,  which  were  twelve  feet 
thick,  having  been  finished  only  a  few  days,  added  still 
more  to  our  troubles  which  the  snow  and  rain  gave  us. 
Many  of  our  solditrs  were  seized  with  scurvy,  and 
our  eyes  became  so  sore,  that  we  were  afraid  of  losing 
our  sight  without  resource.     We  were  not  better  fed 


« 


:i 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


158 


you 


'5 


than  lodged.  Scarcely  can  you  find  a  few  patrldges 
near  the  fort,  and,  to  eat  venison,  you  must  go  to  Lake 
George  to  find  it,  and  that  is  seven  or  eight  leagues  ofi: 

We  finished  our  buildings  as  soon  as  the  season  would 
permit,  but  we  preferred  to  camp  out  in  summer,  rather 
than  remain  any  longer. 

Yet  we  were  not  more  at  ease,  for  the  fever  surprised 
us  all,  and  not  one  of  us  could  enjoy  the  pleasures  of 
the  country. 

This  state,  I  avow,  began  to  be  tedious,  when,  towards 
the  month  of  August,  I  received  from  my  provincial, 
an  obedience  to  return  to  France.  The  religious  whom 
our  Commissary  sent  to  relieve  me,  was  of  our  province, 
and  Peter  Verquaill6  by  name;  he  arrived  on  the  21st 
of  September,  1736,  at  St.  Frederic,  and  I  set  out  the 
same  day  at  four  or  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

The  next  day,  we  had  a  favorable  wind,  which  drove 
us  on  to  La  Pointe,  about  eight  leagues  from  Chambly. 

On  the  23d,  we  were  well-nigh  lost  in  shooting  the 
St.  Teresa  rapids ;  this  was  the  last  danger  I  ran  before 
reaching  Quebec,  where  I  expected  to  embark  at  once 
for  France. 

Such,  my  dear  brother,  is  a  brief  account  of  my 
travels  in  a  part  of  New  France.  Those  who  have 
travelled  in  that  country  can  see  that  I  know  the 
ground,  and,  in  this,  I  have  endeavored  to  be  accurate. 
Ihe  relations  of  manv  travellers  tell  us  a  thousand 
thmgs  which  I  could  only  repeat  after  them;  in  writing 
my  travels,  my  design  was  only  to  detail  the  shipwreck  I 
suffered  on  my  way  back  to  France.  The  circumstances 
attending  it  are  most  interesting ;  prepare  your  heart 
tor  emotion  and  sadness ;  what  remains  for  me  to  write 


1 


154 


PERILS     OF     THE 


will  excite  your  curiosity  only  by  heightening  your 
compassion ;  do  not  blush  at  indulging  in  it,  dear 
brother ;  a  noble  heart  is  ever  sensible  to  the  misfortunes 
of  others  ;  he  who  would  be  unmoved  by  the  miseries 
of  his  brethren,  beai's,  so  to  speak,  a  stamp  of  reproba- 
tion which  justly  cuts  him  off  from  human  society. 

I  shall  write  you  some  weeks  hence ;  do  not  answer 
this,  as  I  must  go  some  leagues  from  this  town,  your 
letter  might  not  reach  me,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  risk  its 
loss. 

Do  not  be  impatient  for  my  third,  I  shall  write  some 
pages  every  day  ;  rely  on  my  word,  and  believe  that  I 
shall  be,  for  life. 

My  dear  brother,  your  affectionate  brother, 

Emmanuel  Chespel,  Recollect. 

Padorborn,  January  30,  1742. 


LETTER   III. 

My  Dear  Brother  : — It  is  not  a  fortnight  since  I 
sent  you  my  second  letter  ;  you  must  see,  by  my  dili- 
gence in  writing  the  third,  that  I  do  not  wish  to  keep 
you  waiting  for  the  sequel  of  my  narrative.  If  I  were 
master  of  all  my  time,  my  letters  would  be  longer  and 
more  frequent ;  but  duty  must  be  preferred  to  all  else, 
and  I  can  only  afford  you  the  hours  not  taken  up  by 
the  indispensable  duties  of  my  state 

I  remained  some  time  at  Quebec,  awaiting  an  oppor- 
tunity to  return  to  x  rancc ;  two  offered  at  oiicc ;  the 
first  in  the  king's  vessel,  Le  Heros,  of  which  I  did  not 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


156 


.1  - 
uie 


avail  myself;  the  other  was  ofFered  me  by  the  Sieur  de 
Freneuse,  a  Canadian  sprung  from  the  noble  family  of 
the  d' Amours ;  the  friendship  that  existed  between  us 
induced  me  to  accept  his  offer  with  pleasuie,  and  I 
could  not  refuse  his  request  that  I  should  act  as  chap- 
lain. He  was  a  very  fine  man,  whom  an  experience  of 
forty-six  years  had  rendered  most  skilful  in  navigation ; 
and  Messrs.  Pacaud,  Treasurers  of  France,  and  shippers 
at  Kochelle,  had  thought  it  impossible  to  confide  their 
ship  La  Eonommee,  to  better  hands.  It  was  a  new  ves- 
sel, a  good  sailer,  convenient,  with  a  cargo  of  three 
hundred  tons,  and  armed  with  fourteen  pieces  of  cannon. 

Several  gentlemen,  for  security  and  pleasure,  asked  to 
go  with  us,  so  that  we  were  fifty-four  on  the  vessel. 

We  weighed  anchor  and  set  sail  on  the  third  of 
November,  with  several  other  vessels,  and  we  all 
anchored  together  at  Trou  St.  Patrice,  three  leagues 
from  Quebec. 

The  next  day  we  made  the  traverse,  that  is  to  say, 
we  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence  from  south  to  north,  and 
the  same  day  we  reached  the  end  of  Isle  Orleans,  nine 
miles  from  Quebec,  and  anchored  off  Cape  Maillard. 

On  the  5th,  we  hoisted  sail  to  pass  the  Gouffre,  but 
we  were  unable  to  do  so  on  that  day,  and  were  com- 
pelled to  put  back  to  the  spot  from  which  we  had  started, 
to  avoid  being  carried  away  by  the  cuiTent,  which  runs 
towards  that  point  from  a  considerable  distance. 

We  were  more  fortunate  next  day,  for  we  passed  this 
Gouffre  without  accident,  as  did  the  Sieur  Veillon,  who 
commanded  a  brigantine  for  Martinique,  and  who,  like 
ourselves,  had  been  unable  to  pass  the  day  before. 

The  ships  with  which  we  had  set  sail,  had  passed  at 


i 


! 


nil 

■ 


' 


156 


PERILS     OP     THE 


the  first  attempt,  so  that  we  were  without  company,  and 
cast  anchor  at  La  Prairie,  near  Isle  aux  Coudres. 

On  the  7th,  we  continued  our  route  to  Isle  aux 
Lievres,  and  thence  to  Mathan,  where  a  slight  northerly 
wind  arose,  on  which  our  captain,  who  knew  its  fury  at 
that  season,  avowed  that  we  had  everything  to  fear. 
He,  accordingly,  deemed  it  best  to  find  a  roadstead,  that 
is  to  say,  a  suitable  place  to  shelter  us  against  the  com- 
ing storm.  The  winds,  soon  after,  obliged  us  to  tack, 
and  the  next  day,  the  Uth  of  the  month,  towards  eight  in 
the  evening,  they  veered  to  N.  N.  E.,  N.  E.,  E.  N.  E.,  E., 
and  at  last,  to  S.  S.  E.,  and  then  continued  in  that  quarter 
for  two  days.  During  all  this  time  we  tacked  about  along 
Isle  Anticosti,  with  reefed  topsails ;  but  as  soon  as  the 
winds  veered  to  S.  S.  W.,  we  steered  S.  E.  by  E.  and  S.  E., 
till  the  morning  of  the  Uth.  On  that  day,  we  endeav- 
ored to  make  the  shore,  but  went  aground  a  quarter  of 
a  league  from  land,  on  the  point  of  a  shoal  of  flat  rocks, 
about  eight  leagues  from  the  southern  point  of  Isle 
Anticosti. 

Our  ship  now  struck  so  frequently,  that  we  expected 
every  moment  to  see  it  open  under  us.  The  time  must 
have  been  bad,  and  the  sailors  in  despair  of  our  safety, 
since  all  refused  to  give  a  hand  in  reefing  the  sails 
and  freeing  the  masts,  although  the  strain  they  gave  the 
ship  was  evidently  hui'rying  on  our  ruin.  The  water 
rushed  in  in  torrents  ;  fear  had  deprived  half  of  all 
presence  of  mind,  and  the  general  disorder  seemed  to 
announce  our  death. 

But  for  our  cannoneer,  our  situation  would  have 
been  much  more  frightful ;  he  ran  to  the  bread  chest, 
and,  though  the  water  had  already  reached  it,  he  threw 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


157 


out  a  pait  between  decks ;  he  thought,  too,  that  some 
guns,    a  barrel  of  powder,   and  a  case   of   cartridges, 
would  become  necessary,  in  case  we  escaped  the  danger 
we  were  actually  in ;  all  this  he  had  carried  up.     His 
precaution  was  not  useless,  and,  but  for  it,  I  would  not 
have  the  consolation  of  writing  to  you,  my  dear  broth- 
ers.    The  sea  was  as  violent  as  the  wind,  neither  dimin- 
ishing  in   the  least;  the  waves   had   carried  away  our 
rudder,  and  we  were  obliged  to  cut  away  our  mizen-mast 
to  throw  it  overboard.     We  then  let  down  our  boa:, 
taking  every  precaution  to  keep  it  ahead,  so  as  to  pre- 
vent  its   being   driven  against  the    ship  and  dashed  to 
pieces ;  the   sight  of  death,  and  hope   of  deferring  it, 
gave   courage   to  all ;  and,  although  we   were   sure  of 
being  miserable  in  that  desert  island  for  some  months  at 
least,   each  thought  he  would  gain  much  by  exposing 
himself  to  everything  to  save  his  life. 

After  getting  our  boat  afloat,  we  suspended  it  on  the 
davits,  in  order  to  embark  all  we  had  more  easily,  and 
get  a  wide  berth  as  soon  a  possible  to  save  ourselves  from 
the  heavy  sea,  which  would,  perhaps,  have  driven  us  on 
the  vessel,  if  we  had  not  got  off  with  speed.  But  it  is 
in  vain  for  men  to  rely  on  their  prudence  ;  when  God 
lays  his  heavy  hand  upon  them,  all  their  precautions  are 
useless. 

We  entered  the  long  boat  to  the  number  of  twenty, 
and,  at  that  instant,  the  pulley  of  the  fore  davit  gave 
way ;  judge  of  our  situation  !  the  boat  remained  hang- 
ing by  the  stern,  and,  of  those  in  it,  several  fell  into  the 
sea ;  others  clung  to  the  sides,  and  some,  by  means  of 
ropes,  hanging  over  the  ship's  sides,  got  on  board  aglin. 

The  captain,  seeing  the  disaster,  cut   or  slipped  the 

14 


158 


PERILS     OF     THE 


'    , 


■I 


V 


Stem  pulley,  and  the  long  boat  righting,  T  jumped  in  to 
save  Mr.  L^vrque  and  Dufrcsnois,  who  were  almost 
drowned.  Meanwhile,  the  sea  used  our  long  boat  so 
roughly,  that  it  was  leaking  at  every  seam.  "Without 
rudder,  without  strength,  a  frightful  wind,  rain  in  tor- 
rents, a  sea  in  fury,  and  an  ebb  tide,  what  could  we 
expect  but  a  speedy  end  ?  Yet  we  made  every  effort 
to  get  off;  some  bailed,  one  steered  with  an  oar, — every- 
thing was  wanting,  or  against  us,  and,  to  fill  up  our 
miseries,  we  shipped  two  seas  that  left  us  knee-deep  in 
water;  a  third  would  have  surely  swamped  us;  our 
strength  began  to  give  out  as  it  became  more  necessary; 
we  made  little  headway,  and,  with  good  reason,  began 
to  fear  our  longboat  would  fill  before  we  could  reach 
land.  The  rain  prevented  our  making  out  a  proper 
place  to  run  in ;  all  before  us  seemed  very  rocky,  or 
rather  we  saw  nothing  but  death. 

I  believed  that  it  was  time  to  exhort  all  to  prepare, 
by  an  act  of  contrition,  to  appear  before  God.  This  I 
had  deferred  till  now,  so  as  not  to  augment  the  panic 
or  unman  their  courage ;  but  there  was  no  recoiling, 
and  1  did  not  -svish  to  have  my  conscience  reproach  me 
with  a  neglect  of  duty.  Every  one  prayed,  and  after 
the  Conjitcor,  I  gave  a  general  absolution.  It  was  a 
touching  sight!  All  those  men  bailing  and  rowing, 
while  they  implored  our  Lord  to  have  mercy  on  them, 
and  forgive  them  the  sins  which  made  them  unworthy 
of  partaking  of  his  glory ;  at  last  they  were  prepared 
for  death,  and  awaited  it  without  repining.  As  for  my- 
self, I  commended  my  soul  to  God.  I  recited  the 
Miserere  aloud,  all  repeating  it  after  me.  I  saw  no 
hope  left.     The  longboat  was  going  down,  and   I  had 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


150 


already  muffled  my  head  in  my  cloak,  so  as  not  to  see 
the  moment  of  our  going  down,  when  a  gust  of  wind 
suddenly  drove  us  ashore. 

You  may  imagine,  how  eagerly  we  sprang  from  the 
longboat ;  but  we  were  not  yet  out  of  danger ;  several 
waves  broke  over  us,  some  of  which  knocked  us  do^vn, 
and  very  nearly  carried  us  out  of  our  depth ;  yet  we 
made  head  against  them,  and  got  off  with  no  harm,  but 
swallowing  an  abundance  of  sand  and  water. 

In  this  confusion,  some  one  had  presence  of  mind 
enough,  to  keep  hold  of  the  line  or  chain  attached  to 
the  longboat,  and  hold  it  fast ;  but  for  this  precaution, 
it  was  all  over,  as  you  will  see  by  my  next  letter,  or 
perhaps  by  the  close  of  this. 

Our  first  care  was  to  thank  God  for  delivering  us 
from  so  great  a  danger,  and,  in  fact,  without  a  special 
aid  of  Providence,  it  would  have  been   impossible   to 
escape  death.     We  were  on  a  little  sand-bank,  separated 
from  the  island   by  a  small  creek,  running  from  a  bay  a 
little  above  the  place  where  we  were.     It  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  we  crossed  this  creek,  for  it  was  so 
deep,  that  for  the  third  time  we  were  on  the  point  of 
perishing.     The  sea,  which  began  to  fall  at  last,  enabled 
us^  to  go  and  get  what  we  had  in  the   longboat,  and 
bring  it  to  the  island.     This  was  a  new  fatigue,  but  it 
could  not  be  put  off.     We  were  wet  to  our  very  bones, 
and  so  was  everything  we  had.     How  could  we  make  a 
fire  in  this  state  ?     Yet  after  some  time  we  succeeded. 
It  was  more  necessary  than  anything  else,  and  although 

it  was  loner  sinofi  wp  haA  foofori  fr.^A   — j  i.„,- 

^_,     ..  „  ..ix.i.  vitui^^vt.  iv/uui,  auu.  iiuii^vi:  was 

pressing  on  us,  we  thought  of  satisfying  it  only  after 
getting  a  little  warm. 


IM il'"Milfci'iiii  iiiii 


.1      ' '  I 


:!  -•>' 


160 


TEUILS      OF     THE 


About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  our  small  boat 
came  to  land  with  only  six  men ;  the  sea  was  so  violent 
that  it  had  been  impossible  for  more  to  expose  them- 
selves in  it.  We  went  to  meet  them,  and  took  all 
necessary  precautions  to  bring  it  in  without  injuring  it. 
Without  this  boat  we  could  never  have  got  to  the  ship  to 
bring  off  the  provisions  which  the  cannoneer  had  saved, 
nor  the  seventeen  men  still  on  board. 

However,  none  durst  undertake  to  go  there  that  day. 
We  passed  the  night  sadly  enough.     The  fire  we  had 
made  had  not  yet  dried  us,  and  we  had  nothing  to  shel- 
ter us  in  that  rigorous  season.     The  wind  seemed  to  us 
to  be  rising,  and  although  the  vessel  was  strong,  new 
and  well  knit,  there  was  every  ground  for  fearing  that 
it  could  not  hold  together  till  next  morning,  and  that 
all  on  board  would  perish  miserably.     About  midnight 
the  wind  fell,  the  sea  subsided,  and, at  day-break,  seeing 
the  ship  in  the  same   state  that  we  left  it,  several  sailors 
went  out  in  the  boat.     They  found  all  on  board  well, 
having  passed  the  night  more  at  ease  than  we  did,  since 
they  were  sheltered  and  had  something  to  eat  and  drink. 
They  put  some  provi^ons  in  the  boat,  and  brought  all 
off;  they  came  seasonably  for  us,  as  we  were  now  suffer- 
ing cruelly  from  hunger. 

We  took  what  was  necessary  for  a  meal,  that  is  to 
say,  about  three  ounces  of  meat  a  piece,  a  little  soup, 
and  some  vegetables  that  we  put  in.  We  had  to  econ- 
omize, and  not  expose  ourselves  to  run  out  of  provisions 
so  soon.  We  sent  to  the  ship  a  second  time  to  save 
the  carpenter's  tools,  tar,  which  we  needed  to  repair 
our  longb<>at,  an  axe  to  cut  wood,  and  rfome  sails  to 
make  ^,  cabin.     All  this  was  a  great  help,   especially 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


161 


ill  boat 
violent 
J  them- 
ook  all 
iring  it. 
ship  to 
L  saved, 

lat  day. 
we  had 
to  shel- 
jd  to  us 
Qg,  new 
ing  that 
and  that 
lidnight 
:,  seeing' 
d  sailors 
,rd  well, 
id,  since 
d  drink. 
>ught  all 
w  suffer- 

hat  is  to 
:le  soup, 
to  econ- 
trovisicns 
to  save 
to  repair 
sails  to 
specially 


■! 


I 


the  sails,  for  two  feet  of  snow  fell  that  night.  On 
the  next  day,  November  16th,  while  some  went  on 
board  for  stores,  the  others  laid  hold  of  the  long- 
boat, and  at  last  got  it  high  and  dry  by  means  of  a 
double  pulley.  The  state  we  found  it  in,  showed  us 
how  near  death  we  had  been,  and  we  could  not  conceive 
how  it  had  ever  brought  us  ashore ;  we  now  did  all  we 
could  to  repair  it.  The  mizen  yard,  which  was  thrown 
up  on  the  shore,  enabled  us  to  make  a  keel ;  we  made 
the  bottom  of  a  piece  of  wood  cut  in  the  forest ;  we 
made  two  Unings  for  the  bottom,  with  boards  which  we 
got  on  board,  and  at  last  it  was  refitted  as  well  as  our 
position  enabled  us. 

I  defer  to  my  next  the  sequel  of  my  shipwreck ; 
before  continuing  it,  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  of  you ; 
such  tidings  interest  no  one  more  than  myself,  who  am, 
with  the  warmest  friendship,  my  dear  brother,  your 
very  affectionate  brother, 

Emmanuel  Chespel,  Recollect, 

Paderborn,  February  13,  1742. 


LETTER     IV. 

My  Dear  Brother: — I  have  just  received  your 
answer,  which  gives  me  infinite  pleasure.  I  was  espec- 
ially touched  by  what  happened  to  you,  in  your  Italian 
and  Hungarian  campaigns.  Why  did  you  not  send 
me  the  details  sooner  ?  Here  I  must  reproach  you ; 
but  this  cannot  displease  you,  as  it  serves  to  show  how 
sensible  I  am  to  all  concerning  you. 

14* 


I 


i:i 


H 


:^i 


i  ;• 


162 


PERILS     OF     THE 


I  am  glad  that  the  beginning  of  my  shipwreck  excites 
in  your  soul,  the  sentiments  which  I  said  it  should ;  it 
is  a  proof  that  I  have  not  exasrcrerated  the  evils  which 
I  suffered,  and  saw  others  suffer.  Yet,  after  all,  my 
dear  brother,  that  is  only  a  slight  sketch,  and  what  I 
have  yet  to  tell  far  surpasses  all  I  have  hitherto  said, 
and  deserves  all  your  attention. 

While  we  were  refitting  the  longboat,  we  ate  only 
once  in  twenty-four  hours,  and  then  our  allowance  was 
smaller  then  that  I  have  already  mentioned.  It  was 
prudent  to  act  so ;  we  had  only  two  months'  stores  in 
the  ship,  this  being  the  usual  provision  made  on  sailing 
from  Quebec  to  France  ;  all  our  biscuit  was  lost,  and 
more  than  half  our  meat  had  been  consumed  or  spoilt, 
during  the  eleven  days  we  had  been  at  sea ;  so  that, 
with  all  possible  economy,  we  had  only  five  weeks'  food. 
This  calculation,  or,  if  you  like,  this  reflection,  an- 
nounced death  at  the  end  of  forty  days !  for,  after  all, 
there  was  no  prospect  of  finding,  before  then,  any  means 
of  leaving  the  desert-island. 

The  ships  which  pass  by  it,  sail  altogether  too  far 
off,  to  perceive  any  signal  we  could  make,  and  then  how 
could  we  rely  on  them  ?  Our  provisions  could  last  no 
more  than  six  weeks,  at  most,  and  no  ship  could  pass 
for  six  or  seven  months. 

I  saw  despair  coming  on,  courage  began  to  sink,  and 
cold,  snow,  ice,  and  sickness,  seemed  banded  to  increase 
our  sufferings.  We  sank  beneath  the  weight  of  so 
much  misery.  The  ship  became  inaccessible  from  the 
ice,  which  gathered  around  it ;  the  cold  caused  an  intol- 
erable sleeplessness  ;  our  sails  were  far  from  shielding 
us  Irom  the  heavy  snows  that  fell,  that  year,  six  feet 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


163 


c  excites 
3ulcl ;  it 
Is  which 
all,  my 
L  what  I 
rto  said, 

ate  only 
nee  was 
It  was 
stores  in 
1  sailing 
ost,  and 
r  spoilt, 
so  that, 
cs'  food, 
on,  an- 
ifter  all, 
y  means 

too  far 
len  how 
.  last  no 
lid  pass 

ik,  and 
increase 
;  of  so 
rom  the 
n  intol- 
lielding 
six  feet 


I 


deep,   and  fever  had   already  surprised  several  of  our 
comrade?. 

Such  circumstances  were  too  trying  for  us,  not  to 
seek  to  dispose  otherwise.  We  accordingly  resolved  on 
a  decisive  step. 

We  knew  that  some  of  our  countrymen  were  winter- 
ing at  Mingan,  on  the  main  land  to  the  north,  in  order 
to  hunt  seals  for  oil ;  there  we  were  almost  sure  to  set 
relief,  but  the  difficulty  was  to  reach  it  at  that  season ; 
the  rivers  were  all  frozen,  the  snow  was  three  feet  deep, 
and  increased  dav  by  day,  and  the  distance  was  great, 
considering  the  season,  and  our  condition,  for  we  were 
forty  leagues  from  the  highest  or  northv^est  part  of  the 
island,  which  we  had  to  make,  turn,  and  descend  some- 
what, then  cross  twelve  leagues  of  open  sea. 

We  were  resolved  to  surmount  all  those  obstacles ; 
our  actual  state  gave  us  no  fears  of  a  more  frightful 
one,  but  one  reflection  stopped  us  for  some  time.  We 
could  not  all  start  for  Mingan,  and  half  of  us  would 
have  to  stay  at  this  place  which  we  were  so  eager  to 
leave,  even  to  expose  ourselves  to  more  real  dangers. 

Yet  there  was  no  other  way — we  must  all  resolve  to 
die  on  that  place  at  the  end  of  six  weeks,  or  part  for  a 
time.  I  showed  them  that  the  least  delay  would  defeat 
our  plan,  as,  during  our  irresolution,  the  bad  weather 
increased,  and  our  scanty  stores  were  failing.  I  added, 
that  I  could  well  conceive  the  repugnance  each  one 
should  have  to  remain  where  we  were,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  I  showed  them  the  absolute  necessity  of  parting 
company,  and  I  hoped  our  Lord  would  dispose  the 
hearts  of  some,  to  let  the  others  go  in  search  of  aid ;  I 
wound  up,  that  we  must  dry  the  chapel  furniture — that 


164 


PERILS     OF     Tlli: 


to  draw  down  on  us  the  light  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  I 
would  celebrate  his  Mass  on  the  26th,  and  that  I  was 
sure  our  j^rayers  would  have  the  desired  effect.  All 
applauded  my  proposition  ;  I  said  the  Mass  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  the  same  day  twenty-four  men  offered  to 
remain,  provided  provisions  were  left  them,  and  a  prom- 
ise made,  on  the  gospel,  that  relief  would  be  sent  as 
soon  as  the  party  got  to  Mingan. 

I  told  my  comrades,  that  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to 
stay  with  the  twenty-four  men  who  had  offered  to  re- 
main at  the  place  of  our  shipwreck,  and  that  I  would 
endeavor  to  help  them  to  await  patiently  the  promised 
relief.  All,  however,  opposed  my  design,  and  to  dis- 
suade me,  said,  that,  as  I  knew  the  language  of  the 
country,  I  must  go  with  the  party,  so  that  if  Mr.  de 
Freneuse  and  de  Senneville  should  die,  I  might  act  as 
interpreter,  in  case  we  met  any  Indians  on  the  island. 
Those  who  remained  especially  desired  I  should  go ; 
they  knew  me  incapable  of  breaking  my  word,  and  did 
not  doubt,  but  that,  on  my  arrival  at  Mingan,  my  first 
cai-e  would  be  to  relieve  them ;  not  but  that  those  who 
were  going  were  fully  disposed  to  send  a  boat  to  their 
relief  as  soon  as  possible,  yet  they  relied  apparently 
more  on  the  word  of  a  priest,  than  that  of  one  of  them- 
selves. When  all  was  arranged,  I  exhorted  those  who 
remained  to  patience.  I  told  them  that  the  means  of 
drawing  upon  them  the  blessings  of  Heaven,  was  not 
to  give  away  to  despair,  and  to  abandon  themselves 
entirely  to  the  care  of  Providence — that  they  should 
keep  themselves  in  continual  exercise  to  keep  off*  sick- 
ness, and  not  fall  into  discouragement, — that  prudence 
required  an  economical  use  of  the  food  we  had  left, 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


165 


although  I  hoped  to  send  them  relief  before  it  was  spent ; 
but  that  it  was  better  to  have  some  over,  than  to  run  the 
risk  of  falling  short.     After  giving  this  advice,  those 
who  were  to  go,  began  to  make  their  preparations,  and, 
on  the  27th,  we  prepared  to  go  ;  we  embraced  our  com- 
rades, who  wished  us  a  successful  voyage,  and,  on  our 
side,  we  showed  how  anxiously  we  desired  to  relieve 
their  distress  ;  we  were  far   from   thuiking  that  it  was 
our  last  embrace.     Our  farewell  was  most  affecting,  and 
the  tears  which  attended  it  were  a  kind  of  presentiment 
of  what  was  to  befall  us. 

Thirteen  got  in  the  small  boat,  and  seventeen  in  the 
longboat ;  we  set  out  in  the  afternoon^  and  rowed  that 
day  about  three  leagues,  but  could  not  make  land,  and 
were  obliged  to  pass  the  night  on  the  water,  where  we 
endured  inexpressible  cold. 

The  next  day  we  did  not  make  as  much  progress, 
but  we  slept  ashore,  and  during  the  night  a  prodigious 
quantity  of  snow  fell  over  us. 

On  the  29th,  the  mnd  was  against  us,  and  we  were 
compelled  by  the  snow,  which  still  continued  to  fall  in 
abundance,  to  go  ashore  very  early. 

On  the  30th,  the  weather  forced  us  to  lie  to  ;  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  landed  and  made  a  good 
fire  to  cook  some  peas,  which  disagreed  with  several  of 
our  party. 

On  the  first  of  December,  the  winds  prevented  our 
re-embarking,  and,  as  our  sailors  complained  of  weak- 
ness, and  said  that  they  could  not  row,  we  cooked  a 
little  meat,  which  we  ate  after  drinking  the  broth :  it 
was  the  first  time  after  our  departure,  that  we  had  feasted 
ourselves  so  well ;  the  other  days  we  ate  only  a  Uttle 


"Wimiii 


i 


166 


PERILS     OP     THE 


I    1 


i  1    I 
1.    ' 


dried  codfish  raw,  or  a  paste  made  of  flour  and  water. 
On  the  morning  of  the  second,  the  wind  haying  changed 
to  S.  E.,  we  set  sail  and  made  considerable  progress ; 
about  noon  we  joined  the  small  boat  to  eat  together ; 
our  joy  was  extreme  to  see  the  fair  weather  continue, 
and  the  winds  become  more  and  more  favorable  to  our 
route ;  but  this  joy  scai'ce  lasted  at  all,  and  gave  place 
to  the  most  frightful  consternation.  After  our  meal, 
we  continued  on  our  way ;  the  small  boat  went  faster 
by  oars,  but  by  sail  we  had  the  advantage ;  we  thought 
better  to  keep  oflT  shore,  so  as  to  double  a  point  which 
we  perceived,  and  made  signal  to  the  boat  to  follow  us, 
but  they  let  themselves  be  driven  in  towards  the  land, 
and  we  lost  sight  of  it. 

At  this  point  we  found  a  frightful  sea,  and,  although 
the  wind  was  not  very  violent,  we  doubled  it  only  by 
great  effort,  and  taking  in  a  great  deal  of  water.  This 
made  us  tremble  for  the  small  boat  which  was  in  shore, 
where  the  sea  always  breaks  more  violently  than  off. 
It  was  handled  so  roughly  that  it  went  down,  and  we 
heard  no  more  of  it  till  spring,  as  you  will  see  by  the 
sequel  of  my  narrative.  When  we  had  passed  the 
point,  we  endeavored  to  land,  but  the  night  was  too  far 
advanced,  and  we  could  not  succeed ;  the  sea  was  bor- 
dered by  very  high  and  rugged  rocks  for  nearly  two 
leagues,  and,  seeing  at  the  end  a  sandy  bay,  we  made 
for  it  at  full  sail,  and  landed  there  without  getting  much 
wet.  We  at  once  lighted  a  fire  to  show  the  small  boat 
where  we  were,  but  this  precaution  was  useless,  because 
it  had  been  dashed  to  pieces. 

After  eating  a  little  paste,  each  one  wrapped  himself 
up  in  his  blanket,  and  spent  the  night  by  the  fire.     At 


I 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  167 

^  next  day.     As  the  fire  me  ted  it,  the  snoiv 

gave  us  peh  trouble,  .o  that  .e  prefeed  stiX 
cold  to  sleeping  m  water.  ^ 

our'lrir''':-\'''  "'  ""*  ''''''""'  ^0  -°'-'  that 
our  longboat,  .vhich    ^as  only  a  short  distance  off  shore 

;-n,uA.4;to\i:::l"JL^-:-^^^^^^ 

.an  up  at  once.  The  captain  and  „,j.self  threw  I'hoT! 
what  we  could  save  of  the  little  ..rgo  the  o  1  e"  p^ed 
up  what  we  threw  out ;  and  carried  it  as  they  supposed 
out  of        h  of  the  tide,  but  the  sea  became 'so  E 

saved,  had  not  our  comrades  taken  the  precaution    J 
rans port   H.ee  different  ti.es  what  they  th'ou  IT i:  J 
at  fi,st       rh,s  was  not  enough ;  we  had  to  get  our  boat 
ashore  to  prevent  its  bdng  carried  out  to  sea      The  If 
fie  dty  we  had  m  getting  it  high  and  dry  is  inconceivabl 
and  we  d.d  not  accomplish  it  until  ten  o'clock    I  S 
mormng;  we  then  found  it  much  strained  and  in  need 
of  considerable  repairs.     We  deferred  repairing  it  u"  U 
the  next  day,  and  made  a  fire  to  dry  ourselves-  aftlr 
wh,ch  we  ate  a  little  to  restore  us  after  our  nj  's    ^ 
In  the  mormng  the  carpenter  and  all  who  we!e  able  t 
help  bm  labored  to  put  matters  in  shape,  and  a  part  of 
us  went  .n  search  of  the  other  boat,  but  in  val  •  »d  t 
was  to  no  purpose  that  we  remained  there  leve^I, 
to  get  tidings  of  it      On  the  eve  of  o^^^^tjTo 
kUled  two  foxes,  which  enabled  us  to  spare  our  nrov"! 
ion.,  m  a  «tuafon  like  ours  all  must  be  turned' 'to 
account,  and  the  fear  of  starving  to  death  prevented  o^ 


j^^ 

.* 


168 


PERILS      OF     THE 


neglecting   any   opportunity    of    prolonging   life.     On 
the   seventh   of  the   month,  we   started   at   daybreak, 
with  a  slight  favorable  wind,  by  which  we  made  consid- 
erable headway;    about  ten  o'clock,   we   ate  our   two 
foxes;  five  hours  after,  the  sky  clouded  over  and   the 
wind  rising  with  the  sea,  wc  had  to  seek  a  harbor,  but 
there  was  none.     We  were  therefore  obliged  to  stand 
off  and  sail  before  the  wind   to  save  ourselves.     The 
night  approached ;  rain,  mixed  with  hail,  soon  closed  the 
day ;  the  wind  drove  us  on  with  so  much  vehemence 
that   we   cculd    scarcely   govern  it,   and  our  boat  had 
undergone  too  much  rough  usage  to  be  able  to  stand 
such  a  storm.     Yet  we  had   to  yield  to  the  circum- 
stances. 

At  the  height  of  the  danger  we  were  driven  into  a 
bay,  where  the  wind  still  vexed  us,  and  where  it  was 
impossible  to  find  a  landing  ;  our  anchor  could  not  hold 
anywhere ;  the  storm  increased  every  moment,  and  our 
boat  being  driven  on  some  shoals,  -we  thought  tjuit  we 
had  not  an  hour  to  live. 

We  nevertheless  endeavored,  by  throwing  overboard 
part  of  our  boat's  load,  to  put  off  the  fatal  moment. 
Scarcely  had  we  done  this  when  we  were  surrounded 
by  ice ;  this  more  than  redoubled  our  fear,  as  the  cakes 
of  ice  were  furiously  tossed  about  and  broke  against  us ; 
1  cannot  tell  you  wiiere  they  drove  us,  but  I  shall  not 
exaggerate  by  telling  you  that  the  various  tossings  we 
met  with  that  night  ai-e  beyond  all  expression.  The 
darkness  increased  the  horror  of  our  condition ;  every 
blast  seemed  to  announce  our  death.  I  exhorted  all 
not  to  distrust  Providence,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  put 
themselves  in  a  state  to  go  and  render  God  an  account 


OCEAN     AND     WXIDEKNESS. 


16!) 


ofa  We  which  he  had  granted  us  only  to  serve  Wm, 

and  I  reminded  them  that  he  was  the  Master  to  take  it 

trom  us  when  he  pleased. 

Day  came  at  last,  and  we  endeavored  amid  the  rocks 

to  make  the  bottom  of  the  bay,  where  we  were  a  little 
more  tranquil ;  every  one  regarded  himself  as  having 
escaped  the  gates  of  the  grave,  and  rendered  thanks  to 
the  almighty  hand  which  had  preserved  us  amid  such 
imminent  danger. 

With  all  our  efforts  we  could  not  make  land,   the 
water  being  too  shallow.     We  had  to  cast  anchor  and, 
to  get  ashore,  we  had  to  go  waist-deep  in  some  parts 
knee-deep  in  all.     We  had  with  us  the  kettle  and  flou 
to  make  paste.     After  taking  some   nourishment,  our 
next  thought  was  to  dry  our  clothes,  so  as  to  start  next 
day.     In  a  few  days  I  will  give  you  the  sequel  of  our 
disaster,  and  shall  not  await  your  answer 

I  am,  with  all  possible  friendship,  dear  Brother,  your 
very  affectionate  brother.  ' 

Emmanuel  Cbespel,  Recollect. 

Paderborn,  February  28,  1742. 


f- 


«i 


I.ETTEE   V. 

My  Dear  Bkothee  .-it  is  not  a  week  since  I  wrote 
you  my  fourth  letter,  and  I  do  not  forget  that  at  the 
close  I  promised  to  send  you  the  fifth  without  delay. 
I  now  keep  my  word,  and  continue  my  narrative. 

ihe  cold  increased  so  much  during  rt..  ,.;~h'  '>•-» 
the  whole  bay  was  frozen  over,  and  o^  boatlemrjd 

16 


no 


PERILS     OF     THE 


in  on  all  sides.  In  vain  did  we  hope  that  the  wind 
would  detach  it;  day  by  day  the  cold  became  more 
intense ;  the  ice  got  stronger,  and  we  had  no  alternative 
but  to  land  what  little  had  not  been  thrown  overboard, 
and  to  bring  in  all  our  provisions.  AVe  made  cabins 
which  we  covered  with  fir  branches ;  the  captain  and 
myself  were  versed  in  the  way  of  building  them,  so  that 
ours  was  one  of  the  most  comfortable.  The  sailors 
raised  theirs  along-side  of  ours,  and,  to  hold  the  provis- 
ions, we  erected  a  little  place  which  no  one  could  enter 
without  being  seen  by  all.  This  was  a  necessary  pre- 
caution, and  to  prevent  suspicion  which  might  arise 
against  those  who  had  the  charge  of  it,  and  to  prevent 
any  one  from  consuming  in  a  few  days  what  was  to  sup- 
port us  for  many  long  days. 

The  following  was  the  furniture  of  the  apartments  we 
had  made  for  ourselves ;  the  iron  pot  in  which  we  had 
heated  the  tar,  served  us  as  a  kettle ;  we  had  only  one 
axe,  but  no  stone  to  sharpen  it,  and  our  only  preserva- 
tive against  the  cold,  was  our  clothes  and  some  half- 
burned  blankets.  Had  any  of  these  failed  us,  we  should 
undoubtedly  have  perished.  "Without  the  pot,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  cook  anything  to  sustain  life ;  without 
the  axe,  we  could  get  no  wood  to  keep  up  our  fire,  and 
without  our  blankets,  bad  as  they  were,  there  was  no 
means  of  resisting  the  excessive  cold  which  almost 
annihilated  us  at  night. 

This  state,  you  will  tell  me,  was  frightful,  and  noth- 
ing could  add  to  it ;  pardon  me,  dear  brother,  ere  long 
it  will  be  incredible.  Its  horror  augments  at  every 
line,  and  I  have  much  to  write  you  before  I  come  to 
the  extremity  of  misery  to  which  I  was  reduced. 


■;|    >     ^     I 


le  wind 
le  more 
crnative 
Jiboard, 
)  cabins 
ain  and 
,  so  that 
sailors 
provis- 
d  enter 
,ry  pre- 
ht  arise 
prevent 
5  to  sup- 

lents  we 
we  had 
inly  one 
reserva- 
le  half- 
j  should 
t  would 
without 
ire,  and 
was  no 
almost 

id  noth- 
3re  long 
fc  every 
come  to 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  171 

Our    sole   resource    was    to    bo    able  to    prolong  our 

to  melt  m  order  to  continue  our  vo^ao■e  i„  the  boat  • 
chance  alone  could  bring  us  relief  in  tha;  spot;  it  .  s' 
-ere  delus.n  to  hope  for  any.  In  this  crisis  it  w 
necessary  to  examine  soberly  what  provisions  .e  had 
and  o  regulate  the  distribution  in  such  a  way  that  they 
shou  d  ast  till  that  time.  Wo  accordlnglv  re^ul  t  I 
our    ood   m  the  following  manner:  in  the  mon.h ^      ! 

"X   j,mei ,  in  the  evenmo-   wp  rr,nl■nf^   ,*.,  ^.u 
,  ,   '""o»  we  cooked   m  the  same  way, 

about  tl>e   .ame  wcght  of  n,eat;  we  were  seventeen  h 
number,  and  consequently  eaeh  had  about  fear  ounc 

.tr  U.        u'  '""'^  ""'>'  ^'^  •■"^  P«'^  i»«'«''l  of  meat 
and  although  we  had  only  a   spoonfnl  apieee,  it  was    „' 

>eahty,  ot,r  best  meal.  It  was  not  enough  to  fi.  the 
q..ant,ty  of  food  which  we  were  to  take ;  wt  had  lot 
et  le  on  our  oeeupations.  Leger,  Basile  and  myself 
«nde,  „„k  to  eut  the  necessary  wood,  be  the  weLhe 
what  It  might;  some  others  agreed  to  carry  it  i„ . 
others,  to  clear  the  snow,  or  rather  to  diminish  Us  demh' 
on  the  road  we  had  to  take  to  the  woods 

cut  wo  T'"  '"*"''•  ^  '"''P"^"'  •'"  "'y  "nrfertaking  to 
c.t  wood,  an  exercse  for  which  I  was  not  apparently 
aclapted,  and  even  yon  may  think,  beyond  my  Ingth' 
in  one  sense,  you  are  right ;  but  when  you  reflect  tW 
violent  exercise  opens  the  pores,  and  gives  vent  Z'n^^l 
humors  that  ,  would  be  dangerous  to  leave  festering' 
in  the  blood,  you  wll  easily  understand  that  I  owe  my 

nr™""  ,';  ''''  ^^^'•^'^^-     '  ^'-y»   Had  fore  ight 
to  tire  myself  extremely  whenever   I   felt   heavy   or 


172 


PERILS     OF     THE 


feverish,  and  especially  -vvhcn  I  thought  myself  affected 
by  the  bad  air.  I  accordingly  went  every  day  into  the 
woods,  and  there  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  to  clear  away 
the  snow,  we  often  went  waist-deep.  This  was  not  our 
only  trouble  in  this  employment ;  the  trees  in  our 
neighborhood  were  full  of  branches,  all  so  loaded  with 
snow,  that,  at  the  first  stroke  of  the  axe,  it  knocked 
down  the  one  that  struck ;  we  were  all  three  in  succes- 
sion thrown  down,  and  we  often  fell  each  two  or  three 
times,  then  we  continued  the  work;  and  when,  by 
repeated  shaking,  the  tree  was  disencumbered  of  the 
snow,  we  felled  it,  cut  it  in  pieces,  and  returned  to  the 
cabin,  each  with  his  load ;  then  our  comrades  went  for 
the  rest,  or  rather  for  what  was  needed  for  that  day. 
We  found  this  hard  work,  but  we  had  to  do  it ;  and 
although  the  fatigue  was  extreme,  everything  was  to  be 
feared  if  we  neglected  to  keep  it  up  manfully  ;  the 
difficulty  increased  day  by  day,  for,  as  we  cut  down  the 
wood,  we  had  to  go  further,  and  so  lengthen  our  jour- 
ney. Our  weakness  increased,  as  our  toil  became  greater. 
Fir  branches  thrown  down  without  order,  were  our  bed ; 
we  were  devoured  by  vermin,  foi  we  had  no  change  of 
clothing  ;  the  smoke  and  snow  gave  us  terrible  soreness 
in  the  eyes,  and,  to  complete  our  miseries,  we  became 
at  once  extremely  costive,  and  afflicted  by  an  inconti- 
nence of  urine,  which  gave  us  not  a  moment's  rest.  I 
leave  it  to  physicians  to  settle  whence  this  arose  ;  had 
we  known  the  cause,  it  would  not  havc;  availed  us ;  it  is 
useless  to  learn  the  source  of  an  evil  which  we  cannot 
remedy. 

On  the   24th  of  December,  we  dried  our  chapel  fur- 
niture ;  we  had  a  little  wine  left ;  I  thawed  it,  and  on 


V 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS.  173 

1  •    ,       ""*'*  t-/  t  cnort  our  folks  to  patienrn      T^   ,., 
exhorting  the.,  to  offer  L  '  ""''  ^  '^"''^  ''^ 

-uH..«i,. ;,:  s  ot:,rr:  z  ':i[ """  i;^ 

end  and  recompense      W.  .,  °  °'"""'  ^^^ 

evils  we  feel   1^1  ""'"'"''  '""^''  ''^"er  '^e 

eo«ru,e.  ....  resigned  hi^e    '    ' 'sul.     Z  "7^^ 
P^OodtoeaUHi.tohi..,,orto^::i'Ltr 

-r:etii^::LrrY:Lnf"s 

the  ice  „  the  T         r  "'  '"  ""  '^'''°'  •'^"^e  "P  all 

thi,  bv  r    ' ,  "'""'''  ^''"^•■'"''  '"''°™ed  us  of 

"lis    Dy  a   loud  cry;  we  sono-Kf    i^       •        i 

which  it  had  been  ca  rild      Jud'l  If  ""^  '^'^  ^^^'  ^° 
this  accident  crowned  our  /^"^^^  "^  °"^  ^^^^^^^'nation ; 
all    hones      .         ""^"^  ^""^  Misfortunes,  and  took  away 
ciu   nopes    of  seeing  them  end  •  I  felt   oil    fU 
quences  of  if  .  t  j        .  ^^^    *^®   conse- 

^eat:;L::ic^--:r:-;— -- 

of  some  tree;  others  no  longer  wished  to  Tori   and   to 
JUS Ufy  the.r  refusal,  said,  that  it  was  uselelst'protng 

touchthaiir'Tr^^'™*^'-'  ^'-"W 

ciiaest  Heart.     I  shed  tears  as  I  write  it   ind 

to  th„.k  that  you  can  read  »y  letter  unmoved.  ' 

I  had  need  to  recall  all  „>y  strength  to  oppose  my 


174 


PERILS     OF     THE 


N  ! 


II  r^ 


i  «i 


companions ;  the  best  reasons  which  I  alleged,  seemed 
to  excite  impatience,  and  make  them  feel  more  poignantly 
their  wretched  state.  As  the  mildness  by  which  I  had 
hoped  to  dissuade  them  from  their  course  had  failed,  I 
assumed  a  tone  which  my  character  aathorized ;  I  told 
them,  with  a  boldness  at  which  they  were  surprised, 
that  *'  God  was  doubtless  irritated  against  us ;  that  he 
measured  the  evils  which  he  sent  us,  by  the  crimes  we  had 
previously  committed  i  that  these  crimes  were  doubtless 
enormous,  as  the  punishment  had  been  so  rigorous,  and 
that  the  greatest  of  all  was  our  despair,  which,  unless 
speedily  followed  by  repentance,  would  become  irremis- 
sible.  How  do  you  know,  my  brethren,  but  that  you 
are  at  the  close  of  your  penance  ?  The  time  of  the 
greatest  sufferings,  is  that  of  the  greatest  mercy ;  do 
not  become  unworthy  of  it  by  your  murmurs ;  the  first 
duty  of  a  Christian  is  to  submit  blindly  to  the  orders  of 
his  Creator;  and  you,  rebel  hearts,  would  you  resist 
him  ?  Would  you  lose  in  an  instant,  the  fruit  of  the 
evils  which  God  sends  you,  only  to  render  you  worthy 
of  the  good  things  which  he  reserves  for  his  children  ? 
Would  you  become  homicides,  and,  to  escape  transient 
pain,  not  fear  to  rush  into  torments  which  have  no 
bounds,  but  eternity  ?  Follow  your  guilty  resolve, 
accomplish  your  horrible  design,  I  have  done  my  duty ; 
it  is  your  business  to  think  that  you  are  then  lost  for- 
ever. Yet  I  hope,  I  added,  that  among  you,  there  will 
be  some  at  least  so  attached  to  the  law  of  their  God,  as 
to  regard  my  remonstrance,  and  that  they  will  join  me 
in  offering  him  their  pains,  and  asking  strength  to 
bear  them." 

When   I  had  finished,  I   wished   to  retire,  but   all 


il 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


175 


stopped   me,   and   begged  me  to  pardon  the  excess  of 
despair  .nto  which  they  had  fallen ;  they  promised  me 

bvtheir  *^'  *^^'  """"^ "° '°"«-  provoke  hI:: 

by  their  murmurs  and  impatience,  and  that  they  would 
.edouble   their  efforts  to  preserve  a  life  of  which  God 
alone   and  not  they,  was  Master  to  dispose  of  T  Eact 
one  ™      diately  resumed  his  ordinary  occupatiof  1 
^ent  to  the  woods  with  my  two  comrades,  and,  when 

h  vin'snr         "'"  '^"°  "'^^''>^''  ^  '-''  *em  that. 

wouldM  r;  "'"'^''  '"  '''°  «  three  Masses,  i 
would  be  well  for  me  to  celebrate  one,  to  ask,  of  he 
Holy  Ghost,  the  strength  and  light  which  we  Leeded 
The  weather  cleared  on  the  5th  of  January;  I  ch„t 
that  day  to  say  the  Mass  ;  scarcely  had  I  foishedT 
when  Mr  Vaillant  and  Foucault,  the  chief  steward  a 
strong  and  vigorous  man,  informed  us  of  their  resolu! 
t-n  to  go  and  look  for  the  longboat.     I  greatly  ^ed 

pin?    S  ''"     "'  "'""'"^  ^"^  ^«  *'-  -- 
panions.     However  we  may  be  situated,  we  like  praise : 

self-love  never  leaves  us  but   with  life.     They  had  no 

been  gone  two  hours,  when  we  saw  them  coming  back 

with  a  contented  air,  which  made  us  believe  thai  they 

had  some  good  news  to  tell  us;  this  conjecture  was  not 

^Jse,  for  Mr  Vaillant  said,  that,  after  walking  rhou 

with  Foucault,  they  had  perceived  a  little  cabin  and 

two   bark  canoes  ;  that,   on  entering,  they  had   found 

seals   fat,  and  an  axe,  which  they  brought'off,  and  tha 

•mpatience  to  announce  this  to  their  companions,  had 

prevented  their  going  further.     I   was   in   the  ;ood 

when  they  came  back ;  the  Sieur  de  SenneviUe  ran  to 

teU  me  of  the  discovery  which  Mr.  VaiUant  and  Fo„. 


176 


PERILS     OP     THE 


HI 


cault  had  just  made ;  I  hurried  back  to  the  cabin,  and  I 
begged  oui-  two  men  to    detail   all  that  they  had  seen  • 
they  repeated  what  they  had  told  the  others.     Every 
word  spread  hope  and  joy  over  my  heart ;  I  seized  that 
occasion  to  extol  the  care  of  Providence  over  those  who 
resign  themselves  entirely  to  it,  and  exhorted  all  to  re- 
turn thanks  to   God   for  the  favor  which  he  had  just 
done  us.     The   nearer  a  man  is   to   the  brink  of  the 
precipice,  the  more  grateful  he  is  to  his  deliverer.     You 
may  judge  whether  our  gratitude  was  lively.     A  few 
days  before,  we  believed  ourselves  hopelesslv  lost,  and 
when    we    despaired   of  receiving   any   assistance,    we 
learned  that  there  were  Indians  on  the  island,  and  that 
towards  the  end  of  March,  they  could  aid  us,  when  they 
would  return  to  the  cabin  to  raise  their  canoes. 

This  discovery  renewed  the  courage  of  those  who  had 
made  it.  They  started  next  day  full  of  the  confidence 
which  the  first  success  gave  ;  they  hoped  to  find  our 
longboat ;  their  hope  was  not  deceived,  for,  after  going 
a  little  further  than  before,  they  perceived  it  off  shore 
and  un  returning  found  and  brought  with  them  a  trunk 
full  of  clothes  which  we  had  thrown  overboard,  during 
that  night  of  which  I  have  spoken. 

On  the  tenth,  although  the  weather  was  very  cold 
we  all  went  to  try  and  put  our  boat  in  a  place  of  safety  • 
but  bemg  full  of  ice,  and  that  which  lay  around  making 
It  like  a  little  mountain,  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  draw 
It  ashore ;  a  hundred  men  would  not  have  succeeded 
wichout  great  difficulty ;  and  even  then  many  would 
run  the  risk  of  perishing  in  the  attempt.  This  obstacle 
did  not  cause  us  much  grief  ^  to  all  appearance  the  own- 
ers of  the  two  canoes  had  a  larger  craft  with  which  they 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS 


177 


had  crossed,  and  we  hoped  to  profit  by  it.  We  accor- 
dingly returned  to  our  cabin;  scarcely  had  we  taken 
fifty  steps  when  the  cold  seized  Foucault  so  as  to  prevent 
him  from  walking ;  we  were  obliged  to  carry  him,  and 
when  we  got  him  to  the  cabin,  he  gave  up  his  soul  to 
God. 

On  the  twenty-third,  our  master  carpenter  sank  under 
the  hardships;  he  had  time  to  confess  and  died  a  sin- 
cere Christian.     Although  many   of  us  had  our  legs 
swollen,  we  lost  no  one  from  the  twenty-third  of  Janu- 
ary, till  the   sixteenth  of  February ;  the  expectation  of 
the  close  of  March  supported  us,  and  we  already  thought 
we  saw  those  from  whom  we  hoped  for  rescue,  arriving ; 
but  God  did  ordain  that  all  should  profit  by  the  reHef 
which  he  sent  us,   the  designs   of  his  Providence  are 
inscrutable,  and,  contrary  as  their  efiects  may  be  to  us, 
we  cannot  without  blasphemy,  accuse  them  of  injustice  \ 
what  we  call  evil  is  often,  in  the  designs  of  our  Creator, 
a  benefit;  and,   whether  he  rewards  or  punishes   us' 
whether  he  tries    us   by  misfortune   or  prosperity,   we 
always  owe  him  thanksgiving. 

Farewell,  my  dear  ^.rother,  I  expect  to  hear  from  you  ; 
my  letter  is  long  enough ;  I  wish  to  let  you  sympathize 
with  me  for  a  iice  ;  tliis  is  a  right  which  I  believe  I 
may  require  from  your  affection. 

^  I  am,  ai...  ever  shall  be,  my  dear  brother,   your  aflfec- 
tionate  brclhf;r^ 

Emmanuel  Crespel,  Recollect. 

Paierborn,  Pebruuiy  28,  1742. 


m 


178 


PERILS     or     THE 


ni 


I    Ail 


LETTER   VI. 

My  Dear  Brother  : — I  expected  to  hear  from  you 
on  the  fifteenth,  or,  at  latest,  the  eighteenth  of  this 
month.  It  is  now  the  twenty-fifth,  and  I  hear  nothing 
of  you.  Your  sentiments  in  my  regard  do  not  allow  me 
to  suppose  that  this  delay  is  caused  by  any  coolness  or 
indifference;  I  prefer  to  think  that  business  beyond 
your  control  has  prevented  you,  and  to  show  you  that 
I  do  not  make  your  silence  a  crime,  I  for  the  third  time 
take  the  advance  of  you. 

I  closed  my  last  letter  by  saying  that  we  had  reached 
the  beginning  of  February,  sustained  by  the  hope  of 
soon  seeing  the  term  of  our  misery,  but  that  God  had 
otherwise  disposed,  and,  my  dear  brother,  this  I  wish  to 
explain  to  you  to-day. 

On  the  sixteenth,  the  Sieur  de  Freneuse,  our  captain, 
died  after  receiving  Extreme  Unction  ;  some  hours  after, 
Jerome,  the  boatswain,  confessed  and  departed  this  life 
with  admirable  resignation.     Towards  evening,  a  young 
man  named  Girard  paid  the  same  tribute  to   nature ;  he 
had  for  some  days  prepared  to  appear   befjre  God.     A 
disease  of  the  legs  which  had  come  on  from  warmina- 
hnnself  too  near,  had  induced  him  to  put  his  conscience 
in  order ;    in  this  1  aided   him.      He  made  a  general 
confession,  and    the    contrition    which    he    seemed    to 
have  for  his  sins,  make  me  think  he  deserved  pardon. 
Our  master  gunner  fell  the  next  night  into  a  debility 
from   which  he   never   recovered;  and  finally    Robert, 
another  boatswain,  was  attacked  by   the  sickness  which 
had  carried  off  the  others ;  I  prepared  him  to  make  an 


'fM 


OCEAN     AND     WILDEHNESS 


179 


abjuration ;  he  was  a  Calvinist ;  and  I  avow  that  it  was 
not  easy  to  make  him  a  Catholic ;  fortunately,  the  good- 
ness of  the  cause  which  I  maintained  supplied  the  stead 
of  the  necessary  talents,  the  Protestants  are  well 
instructed,  we  must  admit ;  I  was  twenty  times  amazed 
at  Robert's  arguments.  What  a  pity,  then,  the  basis  of 
Calvmism  rests  on  a  false  principle !  1  exclaim— What 
a  pity  the  Calvinists  are  not  of  our  communion  !  With 
what  success  would  they  rot  defend  the  right  cause, 
when  they  so  vigorously  sustain  a  bad  one! 

At  last  this,  Robert  understood,   and  chose  to  avoid 
the  danger  of  dying  in  nny  other  creed  than  ours.     On 
the  twenty-fourth  of  February,  he   made  an  abjuration, 
repeated  his  profession  of  faith,  and  went  to  receive  in  a 
better  life  the  reward  of  the  evils  he   had   suffered  in 
this.     As  these  died,  we  put  their  bodies  in  the  snow 
beside  the  cabin.     There  was  doubtless  a  want  of  pru- 
dence in  putting  our  dead  so  near  us,  but  we  had  not 
courage  and  strength  to  carry  them  further ;    besides, 
our  situation  did  not  permit  us  to  think  of  every  thing' 
and  we  did  not  see  any  ground  to  fear  the  neighborhood 
of  what  might  so  corrupt  the  air  as  to  hasten  our  end, 
or  rather  we  thought  that  the    excessive    cold,    which 
prevailed,  would  prevent  the  corruption  from  producing 
on  us    any   of  the   effects   which  it  would   have  been 
rational  to  rl  jad  m  other  circumstances. 

So  many  c-aths  in  so  short  a  time,  spread  terror 
among  all.  Wretched  as  man  may  be,  he  never  looks 
without  horror  on  the  moment  which  is  to  end  his  mis- 
eries, by  depriving  him  of  life.  Some  bewailed  their 
wives  and  children,  and  bemoaned  the  state  of  misery 
into  which   tlieir  dp-^fh    -^r^^,!^   _i ,i    •       a 


180 


PERILS      OF      THE 


II 


Others  kept  complaining  of  being  carried  off  at  an  age 
when  they  only  began  to  enjoy  life  ;  some,  sensible  to 
the  charms  of  friendship,  attached  to  home,  and  destined 
to  agreeable,  and  advantageous  positions  in  life,  uttered 
cries  which  it  was  impossible  to  hear  without  shedding 
tears:  every  word  they  uttered  cut  me  to  the  heart; 
scarcely  had  I  strength  left  to  console.  At  first,  I 
mingled  my  tears  with  theirs:  I  could  not,  without 
injustice,  refuse  them  this  consolation,  nor  condemn 
their  grief.  This  conduct  was  dangerous,  and  I  saw  no 
course  more  proper  than  to  allow  the  effect  of  their  first 
reflections  to  subside.  The  object  of  their  regret  did 
not  make  them  guilty ;  what  could  I  condemn  in  their 
grief?  It  were  an  attempt  to  stifle  nature,  to  silence  it 
on  an  occasion  when  it  would  be  worthy  of  contempt,  if 
it  were  insensible. 

The  circumstances  in  which  we  were  could  not  be 
more  distressing.  To  see  one's  self  die,  to  see  friends 
die,  unable  to  help  them;  to  be  uncertain  of  the  fate  of 
thirteen  persons,  whose  boat  had  been  wrecke'l ;  to  have 
no  doubt  that  the  twenty-four  near  the  vessel  were  not 
at  least  as  wretched  as  ourselves;  to  be  ill  fed,  ill 
clothed,  worn  out,  with  sore  legs,  eaten  up  by  vermin, 
blinded  continually,  either  by  the  snow  or  by  the 
smoke,  such  was  our  condition  ;  each  one  of  us  a  pic- 
ture of  death  ;  we  shuddered  to  look  at  each  other.; 
and  what  passed  in  myself  justified  my  comrade's  lam- 
entations. 

Violent  grief  is  never  lasting,  and  extreme  evils  more 
frequently  fail  to  find  expression  than  moderate  ones. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  them  plunged  in  that  silence  which 
usually  follows  tears  excited  by  a  great  misfortune,  and 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


181 


marking   an  excessive  grief,  I    endeavored  to  console 
them,  and  this  is  about  what  I  said. 

"I  cannot  condemn  youi'  lamentations,  my  dear  chil- 
dren, and  God  will  doubtless  hear  them  favorably.     We 
have  more  than  once  experienced  in  our    misery   the 
effects  of  his  goodness.     Our  longboat  open  at  every 
seam,    yet  sustained  and  buoyed  up  the  night  of  our 
shipwreck;  the  resolution  of  the  twenty-four  men  who 
sacrificed  themselves  for  us ;  and,  above  all,  the  discov- 
ery  of  the  two  Indian  canoes,  are  events  which  clearly 
prove  the  protection  which  God  affords  us.     He  distrib- 
utes his  favors  only  by  degrees.     He  wishes  us,   before 
he  completes  them,  to  render  ourselves   worthy  bv  our 
resignation  in  suffering  the  evils  which  it  shall  please 
him  to  send  us.     Let  us  not  despair  of  his  Providence  ; 
It  never  abandons  those  who  submit  entirely  to  his  will. 
If  God  does  not  deliver  us  in  an  instant,  it  is  because  he 
deems  it  proper  to  use  for  that  purpose  apparently  nat- 
ural  means ;  he  has  already  begun  by  leading  the  Sieur 
Vaillant  and  Master  Foucault  to  the   spot    where    the 
canoes  are ;  let  us  rest  assured  that  he  will  accomplish 
this  work.     For  my  own    part,  I  have    no    doubt    he 
intends  those  canoes  for  our  deliverance.     This  relief, 
my  dear  children,  must  soon  be  offered  us :  wt  have 
almost  reached  the  month  of  March,  the  time  when  the 
Indians  will  come  and  take  their  canoes  ;  the  term  is 
not  long ;  let  us  have  patience,  and  redouble  our  atten- 
tion  to  discover  the  coming  of  those   from  whom  we 
expect  relief.     They  doubtless   have  a   sloop ;    let    us 
implore  God  to  dispose  them  to  take  us  in ;  he  holds 
m  his  hands  the  hearts  of  all  men ;  he  will  soften  for 
us  the    hearts   nf  these    Tnfjjo^a 


he 


vvill  excite  tiieir 


19 


182 


PERILS     OF     THE 


compassion  in  our  favor  and  our  confidence  in  his  good- 
ness, joined  to  the  sacrifice  which  we  will  make  him  of 
our  pains  will  merit  what  we  ask." 

I  then  fell  on  my  knees,  and  recited  some  prayers 
adapted  to  our  situation  and  wants;  all  imitated  me, 
and  none  thought  more  of  his  evils  but  to  offer  them  to 
God.  We  were  tranquil  enough  till  the  fifth  of  March  ; 
we  beheld  with  joy  the  moment  of  our  delivery 
approaching,  we  almost  touched  it,  but  God  again  chose 
to  afflict  us,  and  put  our  patience  to  new  trials. 

On  the  sixth  of  March,  Ash-Wednesday,  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  a  heavy  snow,  diiven  by  a  vio- 
lent north  wind,  filled  up  our  cup  of  misery :  it  Ml  so 
deep  that  it  soon  filled  our  cabin,  and  drove  us  into  the 
sailors*.  It  entered  here  as  much  as  into  ours,  but,  as  it 
was  larger,  we  had  more  room ;  our  fire  was  out ;  we 
had  no  means  of  making  another,  and  to  warm  us  we 
had  no  recourse  but  to  huddle  close  to  each  other.  We 
went  to  the  sailors'  cabin  about  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning  of  Wednesday,  carrying  our  blanket  and  a  little 
raw  ham,  which  we  ate  as  soon  as  we  got  in  ,•  we  then 
threw  the  snow  into  a  corner  of  the  cabin,  spread  the 
large  blanket  on  the  ground,  lay  down  on  it,  and  the 
fragments  of  the  small  ones  served  to  shield  us  from  the 
snow  more  than  from  the  cold.  In  this  state  we 
remained  without  fire,  and  without  eating  or  drinking 
anything  but  snow,  till  Saturday  morning. 

I  then  resolved  to  go  out,  cold  as  it  was,  to  bring  some 
wood  and  flour  to  make  paste.  It  was  risking  life  not 
to  expose  it  to  seek  relief  against  cold  and  hunger. 
During  the  three  days  and  nights  we  had  spent  in  the 
sailors'  cabin,  I  had  seen  four  or  five  men  die  with  their 


OCEAN      AND      WILDERNESS 


183 


legs  and  hands  completely  frozen;  we  were  fortunate 
not  to  be  surprised  in  the  .same  way,  for  the  cold  was  so 
intense  on  Wednesday,  Thursday  and  Friday,  that  the 
hardest  man  would  have  infallibly  died  had  he  gone  out 
of  the  cabin  for  ten  minutes.  You  may  judge  by  what 
I  am  gomg  to  tell  you :  the  weather  having  become  a 
httle  milder  on  Saturday,  I  determined  to  go  out ; 
Leger,  Basile  and  Foucault,  resolved  to  follow  me ;  we 
were  not  over  a  quarter  of  an  hour  getting  the  flour, 
and  yet  Basile  and  Foucault  had  their  hands  and  feet 
frozen  on  that  journey,  and  died  a  few  days  after. 

We  were  unable  to  go  to  the  woods,  which  the  snow 
rendered  inaccessible,  and  we  would  have  run  the  risk 
of  perishing  had  we  attempted  to  overcome  this  obstacle. 
We  were,  therefore,  obliged  to  make  our  paste  cold, 
each  one  had  about  three  ounces,  and  we  well-nigh  paid 
with  our  lives  this  little  relief,  for  all  night  long  we 
were  tormented  by  such  a  cruel  thirst,  and  devoured  by 
such  a  violent  fever,  that  we  thought  every  moment 
that  we  should  be  consumed. 

On  Sunday,   the   10th,   Furst,   Leger,    and   myself, 
avaded   ourselves   of  the   weather,    which   was   pretty 
good,  to  go  and  get  a  little  wood ;  we  were  the  only 
ones  able  to  walk,  but  the  cold  we  had  to  endure,  and 
the  hardship  we  had  to  undergo,  in  clearing  away  the 
snow,    well-nigh  reduced  us  to  the    same  state  as  the 
rest ;  fortunately,  we  held  out  against  both  ;  we  brought 
m  some  wood,  made  a  fire,  and.  with  snow  water  and 
a  little  flour,  we  had  a  very  thin  paste,  which,  in  some 
shght  degree,  alleviated  our  thirst. 
^  All  the  wood  which  we  brought  in,  was  burnt  up  by 
eight  o'clock,  and  the.  nmlif  woe  o«  ^^i^    ^.-l.^  ^-l  ^    1 1 


184 


PERILS      OF     THE 


Sieur  Vaillant  was  found  dead  in  the  morning.  This 
accident  led  Furst,  Leger,  and  myself,  to  think  it  bet- 
ter to  return  to  our  own  cabin ;  it  was  smaller,  and 
consequently  warmer  than  that  of  the  sailors  ;  the  snow 
had  stopped,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  another  snow- 
storm. Great  as  was  our  weakness,  we  undertook  to 
throw  out  of  our  first  cabin,  the  snow  and  ice  which 
filled  it  ;  we  brought  in  new  fir  branches  for  beds,  we 
went  for  wood,  and  lighted  a  great  fire  inside  and  out- 
side of  the  cabin  to  warm  it  thoroughly.  After  this 
work,  which  had  greatly  fatigued  us,  we  went  for  our 
companions.  I  brought  the  Sieurs  de  Senneville,  and 
Vaillant  the  younger,  whose  legs  and  arms  were  frozen. 
]Mr.  le  Vasseur,  Basile,  and  Foucault,  less  afflicted  than 
the  others,  endeavored  to  crawl  along  without  help  ;  we 
laid  them  on  the  branches  which  we  had  prepared,  and 
not  one  left  them  till  after  death. 

On  the  17th,  Basile  became  insensible,  and  died  two 
days  after.  Foucault,  who  was  of  a  hardy  constitution, 
and  was  young,  suflfered  a  violent  agony  ;  his  struggles 
with  death  made  us  tremble,  nor  have  I  ever  seen  a 
more  terrible  sight.  I  endeavored  to  do  my  duty  on 
these  sad  occasions,  and  I  hope,  from  the  divine  good- 
ness, that  my  care  has  not  been  useless  for  the  salvation, 
of  the  dying. 

Our  provisions  drew  near  the  end  ;  we  had  no  more 
flour  ;  we  had  scarcely  ten  pounds  of  peas ;  we  had  not 
seven  pounds  of  candles,  nor  as  much  pork ;  and  our 
last  ham  did  not  weigh  at  best  three  pounds.  It  was 
time  to  think  of  other  means  of  living ;  accordingly, 
Leger  and  I,  for  Furst,  our  mate,  was  unable,  went  at 
low  water  to  get  shell-fish ;  the  weather  was  pretty  fair. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS 


185 


we  walked  knee-deep  in  water  for  two  hours,  and  at 
last  found  on  a  sand-bank,  a  kind  of  oyster,  with  single 
shell ;  we  brought  along  all  we  could  ;  they  were  good, 
and  whenever  the  weather  and  the  tide  permitted,  we 
went  and  laid  in  a  stock ;  but  they  cost  us  pretty  dear, 
for,  on  reaching  the  cabin,  our  hands  and  feet  were  both 
swollen,  and  almost  frozen.  I  did  not  dissemble  from 
myself  the  danger  I  ran  in  renewing  too  often  this  kind 
of  fishery ;  I  saw  the  consequence,  but  what  was  to  be 
done  ?  We  mus(  live,  or  rather  put  off,  for  a  few  days, 
the  moment  of  our  death. 

Our  sick  companions  grew  worse  daily;  gangrene  set 
in  their  legs,  and  no  one  could  dress  them ;  I  under- 
took this  charge ;  it  was  incumbent  on  me  to  give  an 
example  of  that  charity  which  is  the  base  of  our  holy 
religion,  yet,  for  some  moments,  I  wavered  between  the 
merit  of  fulfilling  my  obligations,  and  the    danger    of 
discharging  them ;  God  gave  me  grace  to  triumph  over 
my  repugnance ;  duty  prevailed,  and  although  the  time 
of  dressing  my  comrades'   sores   was  the  most  cruel  in 
the  day,  I  never  relaxed  the  care  I  owed  them.     I  will 
inform  you,  in  my  seventh  letter,  of  the  nature  of  these 
sores,  and  you  may  judge  how  well  founded  was  the 
repugnance  I  first  felt  to  dressing  them,  or  rather  you 
will  see  how  excusable  it  was  as  a  first  impression.     I 
was  well  rewarded  for  my  pain ;  the  gratitude  of  the 
sufferers  is  inconceivable.     "  What !  "  said  one,  "  you 
expose  youiself  to  death  to  save  ourselves  ?  Leave  us  to 
our  pain ;  your  care  may  soothe  it,  but  will  never  dis- 
miss it."     "Leave   us,"   said   another,    "and   do    not 
deprive  those  who  are  not  to  die,  of  the  consolation  of 
having  you  with  them ;  only   help  us  to  put  our  con- 


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Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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186 


PERILS     OF     THE 


science  in  a  state  to  go  and  render  an  account  to  God  of 
the  days  which  he  has  left  us,  and  then  fly  the  corrupted 
air  which  all  breathes  around  us." 

You  may  judge  that  their  entreaties  were  new  ties 
which  bound  me  to  them  ;  they  increased  the  pleasure 
which  I  felt  in  doing  a  duty,  and  gave  me  the  strength 
and  courage  which  I  needed. 

Farewell,  brother,  I  have  not  time  to  tell  you  more ; 
besides,  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  of  you  before  ending 
my  narrative,  and  to  know  the  effect  which  my  last 
three  letters  have  produced  in  your  heart,  and  on  the 
hearts  of  those  whom  you  have  allowed  to  read  it. 

I  am  ever,  with  the  same  friendship,  my  dear  brother. 
Your  very  affectionate  brother, 

Emmanuel  Crespel,  Recollect. 

Paderborn,  March  28,  1742. 


LETTER   VII. 


I 


My  Dear  Brother  : — I  am  happy  to  learn  that 
your  occupations  have  been  the  only  cause  of  your 
silence ;  I  never  suspected  any  other,  and  I  see  with 
pleasure  that  I  was  not  mistaken.  My  last  three  let- 
ters have,  you  say,  touched  you  as  much  as  the  previous 
ones  have  increased  the  curiosity  of  those  who  have 
seen  them  ;  this  flatters  me  greatly,  and  induces  me  to 
send  you  the  rest  without  delay ;  I  hope  you  will  have 
the  last  of  it  about  the  18th  of  May,  unless  I  am 
obliged  to  make  some  excursion  before  that ;  be  that  as 
it  may^  you  may  rely  on  its  being  as  soon  as  possible. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


187 


I  soon  8.W  that  our  sick  comrades  could  not  escape 
death;    they   felt   it    themselves,    and,    although    they 
seemed  resigned,  I  did  not  deom  myself  dispensed  from 
serving  them  the  last  days  of  their  life.     I  said  prayers 
mornmg  and   evening  beside  them ;  I  then  confirmed 
them  in  the  submission  which  they  had  to  the  will  of 
Heaven;  "Offer   your  sufferings  to    Jesus    Christ,"    I 
would  say,  "they  will  render  you  worthy  of  gathe'rin- 
the  fruit  of  the  blood  shed  for  the  salvation  of  the  hu""- 
man  race;  the  Man  God  is  the  perfect  model  of  that 
patience   and  resignation  which  I  admire  in  you  ;  your 
exile  is  about  to  end ;  and  what  thanks  have  you  not  to 
render  to  our  Lord  for  having  furnished  you,  by  this 
shipwreck,  the  surest  means  of  reaching    the    port    of 
salvation!     You  leave,  indeed,  wives  who    expect  all 
from  ycu,  my  dear  friends ;  you  leave  children,  whose 
establishment  was  to  be  your  labor,  but  hope  in  God, 
he  is  a  good  Father,  he  never  abandoned  his  own,  and 
rest  assured,  that,  in  calling  you  to  himself,  he  will  not 
forget  that  he  has  taken  you  from  your  families,  who 
will,  after  your  death    need  the  care  of  his  Providence. 
He  has,  himself,  promised  to  be  the  stay  of  the  widow 
and  the  orphan ;  his  word  is   firm  ;   his   promises  are 
never  ineffectual,  and  you,  by  your  sufferings,  especially 
deserve  that  he  should  cast  a  look  of  favor   on  your 
wives  and  children,  and   do  for  them  much  more  than 
you  ever  could  have  done." 

These  poor  dying  men  answered  me  only  by  assuring 
me  that  all  their  hope  was  in  God,  and  that  it  was  so 
firm  that  they  were  ready  to  leave  the  world  without 
thinking  of  those  whom  they  left,  except  to  recommend 
them  to  his  divine  protection. 


188 


PERILS     OF     THE 


When  T  had  finished  speaking  to  them  on  spiritual 
things,  I  set  to  dressing  their  sores  ;  I  had  only  lye  to 
cleanse  them ;  I  then  covered  them  wi«:h  some  rags  which 
I  dried,  and  when  I  had  to  take  these  off  I  was  sure  to 
bring  away  strips  of  flesh  which,  by  their  corruption, 
spread  an  infected  air  even  around  the  cabin. 

After  twelve  days,  their  legs  had  only  the  bones; 
the  feet  were  detached,  and  their  hands  entirely  wasted 
away.  I  was  obliged  to  dress  them  several  times  ;  the 
infection  arising  was  so  great  that,  every  now  and  then, 
I  had  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air  so  as  not  to  be  suffo- 
cated. Do  not  think,  dear  brother,  that  I  am  imposing 
upon  you ;  God  is  my  witness,  that  I  add  nothing  to  the 
truth,  and  the  reality  is  more  horrible  than  I  can  depict. 
V/ords  are  too  feeble  to  express  a  situation  like  mine 
then.  How  many  touching  things  could  I  not  tell  you, 
if  1  sot  down  the  words  of  these  poor  wretched  men !  I 
constantly  endeavored  to  console  them  by  the  hope  of 
an  eternal  reward,  and  I  often  blended  my  tears  with 
those  which  I  saw  them  shed. 

On  vhe  first  of  April,  the  Sieur  Leger  went  to  the  spot 
where  the  Indian  canoes  were,  and  I  went  to  the  woods 
about  eight  oVlock  in  the  morning  ;  I  was  resting  on  a 
tree  which  I  had  cut  down,  when  I  thought  I  heard  the 
report  of  a  gun ;  as  we  had  several  times  heard  the  same 
noise  without  being  able  to  discover  whence  it  came, 
nor  what  it  was,  I  paid  no  great  attention  to  it.  About 
ten  o'clock,  I  went  back  to  the  cabin  to  ask  Mr.  Furst  to 
corne  and  help  me  bring  in  the  wood  I  had  cut ;  I  told 
him,  as  we  walked  along,  what  I  thought  I  had  heard, 
and  at  the  same  time  kept  looking  out  to  see  whether 
Mr.  Leger  was  returning.     We  had  scai'cely  gone  two 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


189 


hundred  paces  when  I  perceived  several  persons ;  I  ran 
to  meet  them,  and  Mr.  Furst  hastened  with  this  happy 
news  to  our  sick  comrades.  When  I  was  near  enough 
to  distinguish,  I  saw  an  Indian  with  a  woman  whom 
Mr.  Leger  was  bringing  along.  I  spoke  to  this  man; 
he  answered  me,  and  then  asked  me  several  questions, 
which  I  answered  properly.  At  the  sight  of  our  cabin 
he  seemed  surprised,  and  deeply  touched  at  the  extrem- 
ity to  which  we  were  reduced;  he  promised  to  come 
back  the  next  day,  to  go  a  hunting,  and  bring  us  in 
whatever  he  killed. 

We  spent  the  night  in  this  expectation,  and  at  every 
moment  rendered  thanks  to  Heaven  for  the  relief  it  had 
just  sent  us.     Day  came,  and  seemed  to  bring  in  the 
solace    which  had  been  promised  the  day  before;  but 
our  hopes  were  deceived ;  the  morning  glided  away  and 
the  Indian  did    not   keep    his    word.     Some   flattered 
themselves  that  he  would  come  in  the  afternoon;  for 
my  own  part,  I  suspected  the  cause  of  his  delay ;  I  saw 
that  it  would  be  prudent  to  go  to  his  cabin,  and  ask  him 
why  he  had  not  come  as  he  had  promised,  and  if  he 
hesitated  in  his  answer,  to  force  him  to  show  us  where 
the  boat  was  in  which  he  had  crossed.     We  started,  but 
judge  of  our  consternation;  on  our  arrival,  we  found 
neither  the  Indian  nor  his  canoe;  he  had  carried  it  off 
during  the  night,  and  had  retired  to  some  place  where 
we  could  not  find  him. 

To  tell  you  the  reason  of  such  a  course,  I  must 
inform  you  that  the  Indians  are  more  fearful  of  death, 
and  consequently  of  sickness,  than  all  others.  His  flight 
was  induced  by  the  excessive  fear  peculiar  to  that  race ; 
the  display  of  dead  bodies,  the  frightful  state  of  our  sick. 


190 


PERILS     or     THE 


i 


the  infection  of  their  sores,  had  so  alarmed  the  man,  that, 
to  avoid  being  affected  by  the  tainted  air,  he  thought 
best  not  to  keep  his  word,  and  to  change  his  abode,  for 
fear  we  should  go  and  force  him  to  return  to  our  cabin 
and  aid  us. 

Although  this  disappointment  afflicted  us  greatly,  we 
should  have  felt  it  more  if  there  had  not  been  a  second 
canoe  •  but  we  had  to  take  measures  to  prevent  its  own- 
ers from  escaping  us.  Our  fear  was  that  the  Indian 
who  had  deceived  us,  would  inform  his  comrade  of  the 
danger  of  visiting  our  cabin,  and  persuade  him  to  go  and 
get  his  canoe  by  night,  and  remove  from  the  place 
where  we  were. 

This  reflection  led  us  to  resolve  to  carry  off  the  canoe 
with  us,  in  order  to  oblige  the  Indian  to  come  to  our 
cabin  and  help  us,  whatever  repugnance  he  might  seem 
to  have.  But  for  this  precaution  we  were  lost ;  not 
one  of  the  two  occasions  we  had  had  would  have  served 
\is,  and  our  death  was  certain. 

When  th  canoe  was  brought,  we  fastened  it  to  a  tree, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  carried  off  without  making  noise 
enough  to  warn  us  that  some  one  was  detaching  it. 

Some  days  were  spent  in  waiting  for  the  Indian  to 
whom  the  canoe  belonged ;  but  we  saw  no  one,  and 
during  this  time  our  three  sick  comrades  died. 

On  the  seventh,  in  the  evening,  Mr.  le  Vasseur  was 
surprised  by  a  debility  from  which  he  never  recovered, 
and  the  other  two  seeing  that  even  the  Indian's  aid 
which  we  expected,  would  be  useless  to  them,  as  they 
were  unable  to  walk,  again  prepared  to  put  themselves 
in  a  state  to  appear  before  God. 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


191 


Tho  Sieur  Va.lknt,  the  younger,  died  on  the  tenth, 
after  suffer.ng  for  a  whole  month  all  that  can  possibly 
be  imagined ;  his  patience  always  equalled  his  pain  :  he 
was  sixteen  years  old;  the  Mr.  VaiUant  whom  we  had 
lost  on  the  eleventh  of  March,  was  his  father ;  his  youth 
never  seemed  to  him  a  ground  for  complaining  at  being 
so  soon  taken  from  life  ;  in  a  word,  he  expired  with  that 
resignation  and  courage  which  characterize  the  perfect 
Christian.  ^ 

The  Sieur  de  Senneville  imitated  the  virtues  of  the 
younger  Vaillant,  or  rather  they  were  models  to  each 
other ;  the  same  pain,  the  same  patience,  the  same  res- 
ignation; why  cannot  I  set  down  all  that  these  youn^ 
men  said  the  few  days  previous  to  their  death  ?     They 
made  me  blush  not  to  have  as  much  courage  to  console 
them,  as  they  had  to  suffer.     With  what  confidence, 
what  respect,  did  they  not  speak   of  religion   and  the 
mercy   of  our   Lord?     In    what   terms    did    they  not 
express  their  gratitude  ?     They  were  indeed  two  noble 
souls,  and  the  best  hearts  I  ever  met  in  my  life. 

The  latter  several  times  begged  me  to  cut  his  legs 
off,  to  prevent  the  gangrene  getting  up  ;    his  entreaties 
were,  as  you  will  imagine,  useless  ;  I  constantly  refused 
to  do  as  he  wished,   and  showed  him  that  I  had  no 
instrument  suitable  for  the  operation,  and  that,  even  if  I 
had  wished  to  risk  it,  it  would  only  increase  his   pain 
without  guaranteeing  him   from  death.     He  then  put 
his  affairs  in  order,  and  wrote  to  his  parents  in  the  most 
touching  manner,  and  resigned  his  soul  to  God,  on  the 
evening  of  the  thirteenth,  aged  about  twenty.     He  was 
a  Canadian,  and  son  of  the  Sieur  de  Senneville,  who 
was  formerly  a  page  to  the  Dauphiness,  the 


JJUiUSi 


ique- 


192 


PERILS     OF     THE 


t 


I 


teer,  and  now  King's  Lieutenant  at  Montreal,  where 
he  possesses  considerable  property. 

The  death  of  these  three  victims,  of  ccld  and  hunger, 
afflicted  us  greatly,  although  in  fact  their  life  was,  so  to 
say,  a  burthen  to  us  ;  I  felt  a  father's  love  for  them, 
and  was  abundantly  repaid ;  yet  on  reflecting  that  if 
the  Indian  had  come  while  they  were  yet  alive,  we 
would  have  had  to  leave  them  alone  and  unassisted  in 
the  cabin,  or  lose  the  chance  of  going,  I  felt  that  I 
ought  to  thank  our  Lord  for  sparing  me  such  a  cruel 
alternative,  by  calling  them  to  himself.  We  had,  more- 
over, no  more  provisions ;  there  was  left  only  the  small 
ham  of  which  I  have  spoken.  This,  we  were  afraid  to 
touch,  and  contented  ourselves  with  the  shell-fish  which 
Leger  and  I,  from  time  to  time,  gathered  on  the  sea- 
shore. Our  weakness  increased  from  day  to  day,  and 
we  could  scarcely  stand,  when  I  resolved  to  go  in  search 
of  the  Indians  whose  coming  we  expected,  and  to  use 
their  canoe  for  this  purpose  ;  we  got  gum  from  the  trees 
to  put  it  in  order,  and  with  our  axe  made  paddles  the 
best  way  we  could ;  I  knew  how  to  paddle  perfectly ; 
this  was  a  great  advantage  to  accomplish  our  object,  and 
even  to  expose  ourselves,  in  case  we  could  not  find  the 
Indians,  to  run  the  risk  of  crossing  in  the  canoe;  it 
was  our  last  resource,  since  it  was  a  question  of  pre- 
serving life,  or  voluntarily  braving  all.  It  was  certain 
that,  by  remaining  on  that  island,  we  had  only  a  few 
days  to  live  ;  crossing  the  gulf  we  ran  no  greater  risk, 
and  might  hope  that  our  attempt  would  succeed. 

All  was  ready  on  the  26th  of  April ;  we  cooked  half 
the  ham,  taking  the  broth  first,  and  intending  to  reserve 
the  meat  for  our  route ;  but  in  the  evening  we  were  so 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


193 


overcome  by  hunger,  that  we  were  forced  to  eat  it  all. 
The  next  day  we  were  no  stronger  than  the  day  before, 
and,  on  the  28th,  we  were  without  resources,  and 
with  no  hope  of  finding  any  in  time  to  save  us  from 
starvation.  We  accordingly  prepared  for  death  by  re- 
citing the  Litany  of  the  Saints ;  then  we  fell  on  our 
knees,  and  lifting  my  hands  to  Heaven,  I  uttered  this 
prayer : 

"  Great  God,  if  it  is  thy  will  that  we  share  the  fate 
of  the  fourteen  persons  who  have  perished  before  our 
eyes,  delay  not  to  fulfil  it;  do  not  permit  despair  to 
overcome  us ;  call  us  to  thyself  while  we  are  resigned 
to  leave  this  world  without  regret ;  but,  Lord,  if  thou 
hast  not  yet  resolved  our  death,  send  us  help,  and  give 
us  strength  to  support,  without  a  murmur,  the  afflictions 
which  thy  justice  still  prepares  for  us,  that  we  may  not 
lose  in  an  instant  the  fruit  of  the  submission  which  we 
have  thus  flu-  had  to  the  decrees  of  thy  Providence." 

I  was  concluding  my  prayer,  when  we  heard  the  re- 
port of  a  gun,  which  we  quickly  answered  ;  we  supposed 
rightly,  that  it  was  the  Indian  who  owned  the  canoe  we 
had ;  he  wished  to  see  whether  any  of  us  were  still 
'alive,  and  perceiving  it  by  our  gun,  he  kindled  a  fire  to 
pass  the  night.  He  did  not  Fuppose  us  able  to  go  to 
him,  and  cjearly  did  not  wish  us  to  do  so,  for,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  us,  he  hid  in  the  wood  a  part  of  a  bear  which 
he  had  killed,  and  fled. 

As  we  wore  boots,  we  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to 
reach  his  fire ;  we  had  to  cross  a  pretty  large  river, 
thawed  for  some  days  ;  we  saw  the  tracks  of  his  flight, 
and  followed  them  with  incredible  fatigue  ;  and  even 
this  would  have  been  useless,  had  not  the  Indian  been 

n 


194 


PERILS     OF     THE 


: 


compelled  to  slacken  his  pace  to  enable  his  son,  a  boy- 
seven  years  old,  to  follow  him.  This  circumstance  was 
our  salvation ;  towards  evening  we  overtook  this  man, 
who  asked  us  whether  our  sick  were  dead  ;  this  question, 
which  he  put  with  an  air  of  fear,  lest  they  should  still 
survive,  left  us  no  room  to  doubt  but  that  the  first 
Indian  had  told  him  of  our  state,  and  the  danger  of 
approaching  our  abode.  I  did  not  think  proper  at  first 
to  answer  his  question,  and  without  any  more  ado  I 
pressed  him  to  give  us  something  to  eat,  and  for  this 
purpose  to  return,  lie  durst  not  resist ;  we  were  two 
to  one,  well  armed,  and,  Avhat  is  more,  resolved  not  to 
leave  him  for  a  moment.  He  admitted  that  he  had 
almost  a  whole  bear,  which  he  did  not  refuse  to  share 
with  us.  When  we  got  to  the  place  where  he  had  hid- 
den this  bear,  we  each  eat  a  piece  half  cooked ;  we  then 
made  the  Indian  and  his  wife  take  the  rest,  and  led 
them  to  the  spot  where  we  had  left  Mr.  Furst.  This 
poor  man  awaited  us  in  extreme  impatience.  "When 
we  arrived,  he  was  ready  to  expire.  You  may  imagine 
his  joy  when  we  told  him  that  we  had  food  and  assist- 
ance. He  first  ate  a  piece  of  bear  meat ;  we  put  the 
pot  on  the  fire,  and  took  broth  all  night  long,  which  we' 
spent  without  sleeping,  for  fear  our  Indian,  who  would 
not  sleep  in  the  cabin,  should  decamp.  When  the  day- 
came,  I  gave  this  man  clearly  to  understand  that  he 
must  take  us  to  the  place  where  the  boat  was,  in  which 
he  had  crossed,  and,  to  induce  him  not  to  refuse  our 
request,  I  told  him  that  we  would  use  him  very  roughly 
if  he  made  any  delay  about  it.  The  fear  of  being 
killed  made  him  speedily  construct  a  sled,  on  which  he 
put  his  canoe ;  he  made  signs  for  Leger  and  me  to  drag 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


195 


it,  wishing,  doubfless,  to  tire  us  out,  and  ()1)Hge  us  to 
give  up  aid  which  cost  us  so  dear.  We  might  have 
forced  him  to  carry  the  canoe  himself,  but  this  violence 
seemed  to  me  out  of  place ;  it  was  better  to  manage  our 
Indian,  and  all  we  could  do  was  to  use  precaution,  so 
as  not  to  be  duped.  I  will  tell  you,  in  my  eighth  letter, 
what  these  precautions  were,  and  that  one,  I  believe, 
■will  enable  me  to  conclude  my  shipwrecks,  and  tell 
you  of  my  return  to  France. 

I  am  ever,  with  perfect  attachment,  my  dear  brother. 

Your  very  affectionate  brother, 

Emmanuel  Ckespel,  Recollect. 

Paderborn,  April  24,  1742. 


LETTER     "SaiT. 


My  Dear  Brother  : — I  should  have  sent  you  the 
close  of  my  narrative  last  month,  had  I  not  been  obliged 
to  spend  some  weeks  in  the  country.  During  all  my 
absence,  I  could  not  find  a  single  quarter  of  an  hour  of 
which  I  was  master  enough  to  devote  to  satisfying  your 
curiosity  completely.  I  returned  only  yesterday  to 
Paderborn.  I  made  several  visits  this  morning  ;  some 
you  know  are  indispensable,  and  I  sacrifice  the  rest  of 
the  day. 

I  required  of  the  Indian  and  his  wife  that  they  should 
go  ahead,  under  the  pretext  of  clearing  the  way  ;  but  I 
did  not  end  my  precautions  here.  I  told  them  that  the 
child  would  get  tired  on  that  march,  and  that  he  must 


196 


P  E  U  I  L  8     f)  F     THE 


be  put  in  the  canoe,  and  that  it  would  afford  us  a  pleas- 
ure to  relieve  him  in  that  way. 

The  heart  of  a  paient  is  everywhere  the  same  ;  there 
is  none  that  does  not  feel  obliged  for  favors  done  his 
children,  and  that  does  not  accept  it  with  pleasure 
This  man*8  son  was  a  hostage  in  our  hands  for  his 
parent's  fidelity.  We  walked  over  a  league,  through 
snow,  water,  or  ice ;  our  fatigue  wa3  extreme,  but  the 
hope  of  the  fruit  it  was  to  beiu*  supported  and 
encouraged  us ;  yet  it  .  as  impossible  for  us  to  drag  the 
sled  all  the  time.  We  gave  out,  and  the  Indian,  touched 
with  our  exhaustion,  took  the  canoe  on  his  shoulders 
and  carried  it  to  the  shore,  and  first  put  his  wife  and 
child  in.  The  question  then  was,  which  of  us  should 
embark?  The  canoe  could  only  hold  four,  and  conse- 
quently only  one  of  us  three  could  profit  by  it.  I  first 
oflfered  to  remain,  and  told  Messrs.  Furst  and  Leger  to 
settle  between  them  which  should  go ;  each  wished  to 
have  the  preference,  and  feared  to  lose  this  opportunity 
of  avoiding  a  wretched  end  ;  while  they  were  disputing, 
the  Indian  motioned  me  to  come,  and,  after  telling  me 
that  he  guessed  the  reason  of  the  apparent  dispute 
between  my  two  comrades,  he  said  he  would  only  take 
me  into  the  canoe,  and  without  giving  me  time  to 
answer,  he  dragged  me  in,  and  put  ofiE", 

Mr.  Furst  and  Mr.  Leger  gave  themselves  up  as  lost ; 
their  cries  expressed  their  despair ;  I  could  not  resist 
them,  and  requested  the  Indian  to  put  in  shore  to  enable 
me  to  say  a  word  of  consolation  to  my  comrades. 
When  I  got  within  speaking  distance,  I  justified  my 
course  by  telling  them  what  the  Indian  had  said.  I 
advised  them  to  follow  the  shore,  and  promised  them, 


h  j.1 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


107 


on  the  word  of  u  priest,  that,  as  Roon  as  I  reached  the 
Indian  cabin,  I  wouUl  come  for  them  in  a  anoe.  They 
knew  me  incapable  of  perjury  ;  this  assurance  consoled 
them,  and  without  distrust  tliey  saw  us  put  out  to  sea. 

That  day  we  landed ;  the  Indian  took  his  canoe  on 
his  shoulders,  earned  it  near  the  wood,  and  laid  it  on  the 
snow.     As  I  was  tired  from  being  so  long  on  my  knees 
in   the  canoe,   I  was   resting    on  a  rock  near  the  shore. 
After  a  while,  believ    g  that  the  Indian  was  kindling  a 
fire  to   sleep   therr.   I   took   my  gun,  two  paddles,  and 
two  large  pieces  of  meat,  which  I  had  taken  to  save  Mr. 
Furst  and  Mr.  Leger  the  trouble  of  carrying  them,  and 
I  ascended  the  heaps  of  ice,  which  were  at  least  six  feet 
high.     No  sooner  was  I  at  the  top,  than  I  saw  that  my 
Indian  and  his  wife  had  put  on  their  snow-shoes,  a  kind 
of  frame  used  by  the  Canadians  to  go  faster  over  the 
snow  ;  the  man  carried  the  child  on  his  back,  and   both 
were  running  as  fast  as  they  could.     The  cries  I  uttered 
to   stop  them  only  made   them  redouble  the  celerity  of 
their    course.     I    at   once    threw    down    my    paddles, 
descended  the  ice  mound,  and,  with  my  gun  and  meat, 
followed  their  trail  for  some  time. 

While  climbing  the  mound  of  ice,  I  wounded  myself 
quite  badly  in  the  right  leg,  and  the  pain  was  renewed 
every  time  that  I  sank  in  the  snow  as  I  ran  along,  that 
is  to  say,  every  moment.  I  could  no  longer  breathe, 
and  had  to  stop  several  times  to  take  breath,  and  to  rest 
on  the  muzzle  of  my  gun.  I  was  in  this  posture,  when 
I  heard  Mr.  Leger's  voice — this  meeting  gave  us  both 
extreme  pleasure.  I  told  him  what  had  occurred,  and 
he,  on  his  side,  told  me  that  Mr.  Furst,  overcome  with 
fatigue,  had  been  unable  to  follow  him,  and  that  he  had 

17* 


198 


PERILS     OF     THE 


left  him  stretched  out  on  the  snow,  at  a  place  quite 
remote  Irom  where  we  were. 

In  any  other  circumstances,  I  should  have  flown  to 
his  assistance ;  but  it  was  all-important  for  us  to  over- 
take our  runaway.  Mr.  Leger,  like  myself,  felt  how 
much  we  risked  in  delaying  any  longer  to  follow  his 
trail. 

We  instantly  started  for  the  place  where  I  knew  he 
had  fled ;  but,  as  he  had  left  the  snow  to  take  the  sea- 
shore, which  was  low  and  sandy,  we  were  stopped  for 
some  time.  We  kept  on,  however,  and  after  walking 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  again  struck  on  the  trail  of  the 
Indian,  who  had  taken  off  his  snow-shoes,  doubtless 
thinking  that  I  had  been  unable  to  follow  him  thus  far. 
This  circumstance  made  us  think  that  his  cabin  was  not 
far  off:  we  redoubled  our  speed,  and,  as  we  got  near 
the  wood,  we  heard  the  report  of  a  gun ;  we  did  not 
think  it  worth  while  to  answer  it,  for  fear  that,  il  It  was 
fired  by  the  Indian  whom  we  were  pursuing,  he  would 
resume  his  snow-shoes  to  fly  with  new  swiftness,  as 
soon  as  he  knew  wa  were  so  near. 

We  accordingly  continued  to  walk  on,  and,  soon  after 
the  first  report,  we  heard  another  ;  this  made  us  suspect 
that  the  Indian  wished  to  light  a  fire  there,  to  rest  with 
his  wife  and  child,  after  satisfying  himself  that  he  was 
not  followed.  This  conjecture  was  false,  as  you  will 
soon  see. 

Ten  minutes  after  the  second  report,  we  heard  a  third, 
of  which  we  saw  the  flash ;  no  answer  from  us ;  we 
advanced  in  silence.  On  our  way,  we  found  a  large  boat 
on  which  somebodv  had  been  workinor  flip  rlnv  hefnvp  an^l 
twenty  steps  further,  we  saw  a  large  cabin.     We  entered 


OCEAN      AND     WILDERNESS. 


199 


with  the  air  which  suited  our  situation ;  the  tone  of 
suppliants  was  the  only  one  that  became  us ;  we  took  it 
at  first,  but  the  old  man,  who  spoke  French,  would  not 
permit  us  to  continue  it. 

"  Are  not  all  men  equals  ?  "  said  he,  "  at  least  ought 
they  not  to  be  ?  Your  misfortune  is  a  title  to  respect, 
and  I  regard  it  as  a  favor,  that  Heaven,  by  bringing 
you  here,  gives  me  an  opportunity  to  do  good  to  men, 
whom  misery  still  pursues.  I  only  require  of  you  to 
tell  me  what  has  befallen  you,  since  you  were  cast  on 
this  island ;  I  should  be  glad  to  sympathize  with  you 
over  your  past  sufferings  ;  my  sensibility  will  be  a  new 
consolation." 

At  the  same  time,  he  ordered  them  to  cook  our  meat 
with  peas,  and  spare  nothing,  to  show  that  humanity  is 
as  much  a  virtue  of  the  American  Indian,  as  of  more 
civilized  people.  When  this  old  man  had  given  his 
orders,  he  begged  us  to  gratify  his  curiosity ;  I  endeav- 
ored to  forget  none  of  the  circumstances  which  you 
know  attended  our  misfortune,  and,  after  having  finished 
my  story,  I  begged  the  old  man  to  tell  me  why  the  two 
Indians,  whom  we  had  seen  in  the  depth  of  our  misery, 
had  refused  to  help  us. 

"  Indians,"  said  he,  "  tremble  at  the  mere  name  of 
sickness,  and  all  my  arguments  have  not  yet  dispelled 
the  terror  which  still  fills  all  whom  you  see  in  this 
cabin.  It  is  not  that  they  are  insensible  to  the  misery  of 
their  brethren ;  they  would  fain  help  them,  but  the  fear 
of  breathing  a  tainted  air  checks  the  impulses  of  their 
hearts,   which  are  naturally  compassionate.     They  fear 

nPnfn         Ttni"      llVo    rtfVlo-i.     rMon       Knf    f/-v    r.i-i,-.l-.    ^     J^».„»^      it,-!.    T 

know  not  what  crimes  they  would  not  commit,  to  avoid  it. 


200 


PERILS      OF     THE 


Here,"  said  he,  pointing  to  an  Indian  behind  the  others, 
"  this  is  the  one  who  broke  his  word  to  you  -,  he  came 
here  early  in  the  month,  and  told  us  the  wretched  state 
in  which  he  had   seen  the  Frenchmen,  whom  he  sup- 
posed all  dead    by  that  time,  and  whom  he  would  have 
willingly  assisted,  but  for  the  corruption  among  them. 
Here  is  the  other,"  continued  the   old  man,  pointing  to 
the  one   whom   I   had  pursued,  "he   got  here  an  hour 
before  you,  and  told  us  that  there  were  still  three  French- 
men alive,  that  they  were  no  longer  near  their   dead 
companions,  that  they  were  in  health,  and  could,    he 
thought,   be   aided  without   risk   of  bringing  infection 
with  them  ;  we  deliberated  a  moment,  and  then    sent 
one  towards  the  quarter  where  you  were,  to  show  you, 
by  three  reports  of  a  gun,  where  our  cabin  was.     Your 
sick,  alone,  prevented  our  going  to  help  you,  and  we 
should,  perhaps,  have  gone,  if  we  had  not  been  assured 
that  the  aid  we  might  send,  would  be  of  no  use  to   you, 
and  might  be  of  great  injury  to  us,  as  your  cabin  was 
filled  and  surrounded  with  infected  air,  which  it  would 
be  very  dangerous  to  breathe." 

Such  language  in  the  mouth  of  a  man  belonging  to  a 
nation  whom  a  false  prejudice  makes  us  suppose  inca- 
pable of  thinking  or  reasoning,  and  to  whom  we  unjustly 
deny  sentiment  and  expression,  surprised  me  greatly. 
I  even  avow,  that  to  have  the  idea  of  Indians  which  I 
give  you,  it  did  not  need  less  than  my  seeing  them. 

When  the  old  man  got  through,  I  endeavored  to 
express  all  the  gratitude  which  we  felt.  I  begged  him 
to  accept  my  gun,  which  its  goodness  and  ornaments,  for 
it  was  covered  with  them,  raised  in  value  above  all  those 
in  the  cabin.     I  then  told  him  that  fatigue  had  pre- 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


201 


to  a 


vented  one  of  our  comrades  from  following  us,  and  that 
it  would  be  the  crowning  of  his  kindness  if  he  would 
send  two  men  to  enable  them  to  reach  us.     My  entreat- 
ies were  useless ;  Indians  fear  to  go  out  by  night,  and 
nobody  would  undertake  to  go  to  the  relief  of  Mr.  Furst. 
They  promised  me,  however,  that  they  would  go  early 
next  morning  ;  this  refusal  gave  me  much  pain  ;  the  old 
man  perceived  it,  and,  to  console  me  said,  that  it  would 
be  quite  useless  to  try,  and  find  my  friend  in  the  dark, 
as  he  had  no  gun  to  show  where  he  was,  and  that  it  was 
better  to  wait  for    daylight.      Mr!    Furst    accordingly 
spent  the  night  in  the  snow,  where  God  alone  could 
shield  him  from  death,  for,  even  in  the  cabin,  we  endured 
inexpressible  cold.     The  Indians    never    make    a    fire 
when  they  lie  down;  they  have  not  even  blankets,  and 
consequently  we  spent  a  very  poor  night.     The    next 
day,  as  we  w6re  preparing  to  go  after  Mr.  Furst,  we  saw 
him  arrive ;  our  footprints  had  guided  him,  and  to  over- 
take us  he  had  profited  by  the  time  when  the  snow, 
hardened  by  the  night's  cold,   does  not  yield  to   the 
weight  of  a  man  walking.     Our  first  care  was   to   warm 
him,  we  then  gave  him  some  food,  and  we   showed  one 
another  the  joy  we  felt  to  be  together  again. 

We  spent  the  twenty-ninth  and  thirtieth  of  April 
with  the  Indians ;  they  seemed  to  be  jealous  who  would 
show  us  most  attention,  and  endeavored  to  surpass  each 
other  in  this  respect.  Bear  meat  and  caribou  did  not 
fail  us  those  two  days,  and  they  took  care  to  give  us 
the  most  delicate  morsels.  I  know  not  whether  the 
duties  of  hospitality  are  better  fulfilled  by  Europeans 
than  by  these  Indians.  At  least  I  am  tempted  to  believe 
that  these  fulfil  them  with  far  better  grace. 


202 


PERILS      OF     THE 


On  the  first  of  May,  they  launched  the  large  boat ; 
we  all  embarked  and  set  sail;  the  wind  failed  us 
towards  noon,  at  about  six  leagues  from  the  main  land. 
This  accident  afflicted  me;  I  feared  to  be  unable  to 
relieve  soon  enough  such  of  our  comrades  as  had  sur- 
vived at  the  place  of  the  shipwreck.  This  fear  made 
me  entreat  the  old  man  to  give  me  two  men,  with  a 
bark  canoe  to  go  ashore.  I  tried  to  induce  him  to  grant 
my  request  by  promising  to  send  tobacco  and  brandy  to 


all  in  the  large 


boat,  as   soon  as    I  got  to  the  French. 


Much  as  he  would  "have  liked  to  oblige  me,  he  first 
consulted  before  making  me  any  promise,  and  it  was 
not  without  difficulty  that  they  paid  any  attention  to  my 
request.  They  feared  that  a  trip  of  six  leagues  was  too 
long  for  a  canoe,  and  they  did  not  wish  to  expose  us  to 
perish.  We  accordingly  started,  and  about  half-past 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  reached  land.  1 
entered  the  house  of  the  French  ;  the  first  whom  I  saw 
was  Mr.  Volant,  a  native  of  St.  German-en-Laye,  my 
friend  and  master  of  this  post.  I  could  not  fall  into 
better  hands  ;  I  found  in  a  single  man  the  sincere  desire 
and  real  power  of  serving  me.  He  did  not  recognize 
me  at  first,  and  in  fact  I  was  not  rerognizable  ;  as  soon 
as  I  told  him  my  name,  he  lavished  marks  of  friendship 
on  me,  and  the  pleasure  we  had  in  embracing  each 
other  was  extreme  on  both  sides.  I  told  him  first  to 
what  I  was  bound  ;  with  regard  to  the  Indians  he  kept 
my  promise,  and  each  one  of  our  liberators  had  liquor 
and  tobacco.  They  arrived  there  only  at  ten  o'clock  in 
the  morning ;  till  that  time  I  was  recounting  to  Mr. 
Volant  all  that  had  haDoenecl  to  me.  and  T  insisfpd 
especially  on  the   fate   of  the   twenty-four   men   who 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


203 


were  at  the  wreck.  My  friend  was  the  more  touched 
by  it  as  they  were  still  in  pain.  He  immediately  fitted 
out  a  boat  to  go  to  their  relief  and  to  discover,  if  possible, 
whether  any  one  of  the  eleven  men  of  the  small  boat 
was  still  alive.  When  he  got  to  the  neighborhood  of 
our  shipwreck,  he  fired  several  guns  to  make  himself 
heard  by  those  whom  we  had  left  there ;  at  the  same 
time  he  saw  four  men  who  fell  on  their  knees,  and  with 
clasped  hands  begged  him  to  save  their  lives.  Their 
wasted  faces,  so  to  speak,  the  sound  of  their  voice,  which 
told  that  they  were  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  their 
cries,  pierced  the  heai't  of  Mr.  Volant.  He  advanced  to 
them,  gave  them  some  food,  but  with  moderation  for 
fear  of  killing  them,  by  overloading  their  system  sud- 
denly. In  spite  of  this  wise  precaution,  one  of  these 
four  men,  named  Fenguay,  a  Breton  by  birth,  died  after 
drinking  a  glass  of  brandy. 

My  friend  had  the  twenty-one  men  buried  who  had 
died  since  we  left  them,  and  brought  off  the  other  three 
who  had  borne  up  against  hardship,  hunger,  and  the 
severity  of  the  season  ;  they  were,  however,  far  from 
being  in  perfect  health  ,•  one  of  them,  named  Tourrillet, 
the  master's  mate  from  the  department  of  Brest,  was 
slightly  deranged,  and  the  other  two,  by  name,  Boudet 
and  Bonau,  both  from  Isle  Rhe,  were  swollen  over  the 
whole  body. 

Good  food  and  the  care  we  took  of  them  restored 
them,  if  not  perfectly,  at  least  enough  to  enable  them  to 
start  with  us  for  Quebec. 

Returning,  Mr.  Volant  perceived,  near  the  shore,  one 
who  seemed  to  have  been  drowned,  and  some  fragments 
of  a  canoe  ;  he  advanced  to  make  siu:e  of  what  he   per- 


204: 


PERILS     OF     THE 


ceived ;  and  by  firing  several  times,  endeavored  to  see 
whether  there  was  any  one  there ;  no  one  appeared  ; 
there  was  no  answer,  and  all  I  can  say  is,  that  thirteen 
men  died  of  cold  and  hunger,  as  my  friend  saw  a  kind 
of  cabin  some  distance  from  the  shore,  which  proved 
that  they  had  landed  and,  finding  no  relief  there,  had 
perished  miserably. 

It  is  useless,  I  believe,  to  tell  you  the  feelings  which 
we  experienced,  when  we  saw  the  three  men  arrive  who 
had  escaped  from  the  shipwreck  ;  you  may  imagine  how 
touchmg  it  was,  and  how  little  tears  were  spared. 

After  tenderly  embracing  each  other,  I  asked  them 
how  they  had  been  able  to  live  till  then,  and  how  the 
others  had  died ;  they  told  me  that  cold  and  hunger 
had  carried  oS  a  part  of  their  comrades,  and  that  the 
others  had  been  consumed  by  ulcers  horrible  to  look 
upon  ;  that,  for  themselves,  having  become  destitute  of 
all  food,  they  had  eaten  the  very  shoes  of  their  deceased 
comrades  after  boiling  them  in  snow-water,  and  roasting 
them  on  coals  ;  and  this  resource  having  failed,  they 
had  even  eaten  the  leather  breeches  of  those  whom 
death  had  carried  off;  and  that  they  had  only  one  or 
two,  when  Mr.  Volant  had  come  to  their  relief. 

You  see  well,  that  the  condition  of  these  poor  people 
had  not  been  less  deplorable  than  ours,  and  they  had, 
perhaps,  suffered  much  more  than  we,  if  for  nothing 
else  than  the  necessity  of  eating  the  very  garments  of 
those  comrades  whom  they  had  lost.  We  remained 
nearly  six  weeks  at  Mingan,  all  which  time  we  spent 
in  thanking  God  for  having  preserved  us  amid  so  many 
dangers,  and  we  did  not  pass  a  day  without  imploring 


OCEAN     AND     WILDERNESS. 


205 


Ms  mercy,  for  the  souls  of  forty-eight  men  who  had 
perished  since  our  shipwreck. 

^  The  Sieur  Leger  left  us,  and  started  for  Labrador, 
mtendmg  to  go  to  France  on  a  St.  Malo  ship,  and,  on 
the  8th  of  June,  we  took  the  occasion  of  a  small  craft 
to  return  to  Quebec.  The  wind  was  so  favorable,  that 
on  the  evening  of  the  13th,  we  landed.  All  were 
amazed  to  see  us  again ;  they  thought  us  in  France  • 
every  one  eagerly  asked  us  what  had  brought  us  back,' 
and  what  had  happened  to  us  after  our  departure.  We 
satisfied  the  curiosity  of  those  whose  attachment  to  us 
made  them  interested  in  all  that  concerned  us. 

The  next  day,  they  conveyed  to  the  hospital  the 
three  sailors  whom  Mr.  Volant  had  found  at  the  place 
of  our  shipwreck.  Mr.  Furst  and  I,  each  did,  for  our 
part,  what  was  necessary  to  restore  us  ccmpletely.  As 
soon  as  my  Superiors  saw  that  I  was  a  little  better,  they 
gave  me  the  little  parish  of  Soulanges,  which  I  served 
for  a  year ;  I  then  received  a  second  obedience  to  go  to 
France.  I  rccordingly  embarked  as  chaplain,  on  board 
the  king's  ship,  '^  Le  Rubis,"  commanded  by  Mr.  De 
la  Joncaire,  Capitaine  de  Haut-Bord. 

We  left  Quebec  the  Slst  of  October,  1738,  and,  on 
the  2d  of  December,  we  entered  Port  Louis,  in  Brittany, 
to  get  some  provisions,  for  we  were  running  out.  We 
remained  there  about  twenty  days,  and  left  it  on  the  22d 
with  the  « Facon,"  commanded  by  the  Mai-quis  de 
Chavagnac,  who  came  from  Cape  Breton. 

About  midnight,  we  anchored  for  about  two  hours  ofF 
Belle  Isle,  to  wait  for  a  wind ;  we  then  made  sail'for 
xiocheiort,  which  we  reached  next  day,  and  there  my 
duties  detained  me  till  all  was  unloaded. 

18 


S06 


PERILS     OF     THE 


Some  days  after,  I  started  for  Paris,  whence  I  was 
sent  to  Doiiay,  in  Flanders.  Here  I  remained,  till  early 
in  1740,  when  I  was  appointed  Vicar  of  our  Convent 
of  Avesnes,  in  Hainaut.  I  arrived  there  on  the  25th 
of  January,  the  same  day  that  I  had  left  it,  sixteen 
years  before.  My  Superiors,  in  sending  me  to  that 
house,  had  expected  that  some  years'  stay  in  my  native 
country  would  completely  restore  me,  after  the  hard- 
ships I  had  undergone  in  my  travels.  I  had  conceived 
the  same  hope,  but  it  turned  out  quite  the  reverse ;  my 
stomach  could  no  longer  bear  the  food  of  that  part ;  I 
had,  so  to  speak,  acquired  a  new  constitution ;  repose 
was  injurious  to  me,  and  I  had  to  accustom  myself  to  it 
gradually.  This  made  me  solicit  from  my  Superiors  an 
obedience  to  return  to  Paris,  the  air  of  which  suited  me 
much  better  than  that  of  my  province.  They  were 
kind  enough  to  grant  my  request,  and  when  I  was  per- 
fectly well,  they  appointed  me  chaplain  in  the  French 
army,  commanded  by  the  Marshal  Maillebois. 

Such,  my  dear  brother,  is  the  account  of  my  voyages 
and  shipwrecks.  I  hope  you  will  be  better  satisfied 
with  it,  than  with  what  I  sent  you  first.  You  may  rest 
assured,  that  I  have  stated  nothing  that  is  not  in  accord- 
ance with  strict  truth.  I  hope,  indeed,  that  the  rumors 
which  begin  to  prevail,  have  some  foundation  ;  I  should 
soon  have  the  pleasure  of  embracing  you  at  Frankfort, 
and  of  proving  to  you  that  I  am,  and  shall  be  all  my 
life,  with  the  sincerest  friendship,  dear  brother. 
Your  very  aflfectionate  brother, 

Emmanuel  Crespel,  Recollect, 

Paderborn,  June  18,  1742. 


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Treasury  of  Praye/.\ 

24rao.    66S  pagos.     Illustrated. 

The  Ijondon  LathoUe  Stnnilard  says nf  this  work  :  "  V'e  hdve  been  nfmch  pleased 
with  this  excellent  Prayer  Book,  which  appears  to  us  one  ot  the  most  perfect  yet 
published,  and  wliich  reunites  many  features  not  found  in  former  publications  of 
the  kind.  Tlie  occasional  prayers  are  adniirnl)ly  selected  ;  for  instance,  we  find 
one  '  for  a  uiercliant  or  trader,'  another  '  to  obtain  the  spirit  of  prayer  '  another 
•for  grace  to  conqiifr  our  passions,' another  to  be  used  ♦  after  a  day  cf  toil.' 
There  are  also  prayers  used  by  various  holy  persons  ;  for  instance,  those  of  St. 
Bonaventure,  [ft.  Augustine,  Sl  'rimnias  Aipiinas,  St.  Ignatius,  &.c.  j  the  prayer 
of  Solomon  for  wisdom,  the  prayer  of  Munasses,  of  Jonas,  of  Job,  &c.  There 
are  several  litanies,  hymns,  visits,  and  special  devotions.  The  fonub  of  examina- 
tion of  conscience  strike  us  as  remarkably  practical  and  wisely  composed.  There 
are  numerous  instructions  suited  to  the  young  and  to  converts,  which  make  it  a 
b(H>k  suitable  for  spiritual  reading  as  well  as  prayer  ;  and  the  ()oints  of  doctrine 
disputed  by  Protestants,  such  as  the  Real  Presence,  Confession,  Sec,  are  headed 
with  proofs  from  Scripture." 

The  Dublin  Tdegrayh  says  :  "  This  is  a  most  elegant,  complete,  and  compen- 
dious companion  to  the  Holy  Altar.  In  addition  to  the  devotions  contained  in  the 
ordinaiy  bwik  of  prayer,  we  have  here  the  Devotiotis  of  the  Bona  Mors,  Visits  to 
the  Blessed  Sacrament,  Devotions  of  tlie  Month  of  Mary,  Devotions  fur  the  Forty 
Hours'  Expiwition  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  together  with  the  Way  of  the  Cross  ; 
and  all  this  in  so  convenient  and  agreeable  a  size  and  shape  as  to  be  eiisily  placed 
in  a  lady's  pocket.  The  title  is  well  bestowed  j  for  it  is,  indeed,  a  Treasury  of 
Prayer,  and  a  complete  library  of  practical  piety." 


Rojin,  plain,  .... 

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lionn,  full  "ilt,  cIosti,   .        .        , 
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Turkey,  super  extra,  bevelled, 
Turkey,  super  extra,  bevelled,  clasp, 
Velvet,  embossed. 
Velvet,  embossed,  clasp, 
Velvet,  full  mountings, 


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Velvet,  full  mountings, 


•  •  • 

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25. 
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Tnr^^.?'^^..^^^^   ™^^   SHAMROCK;  or   How 

Opinions  of  the  Press. 

he  faith  which  has  supported  him  in  «o  many  trials  at  home,  which  has  been  . 
lamp  u„^  his  feet  and  as  a  staff  in  i.i.  hands,  fails  him  not  here.     The  «  CrosI 
and  the  Shamn^k  "  triumph  over  the  assault  of  man  and  devil,  of  Protesta^ 
fw7S;r"r    "^""'^'r'  phi.anthrophist-the  latter  the  wor'st    eCf  h. 

7e  -L  auU  T7'  T  ''"""""  '"  '^^"  ^un,.y,-,  Yankee  Mr.  Bum- 
.«;a7r   We  Lvf"  '"h     .  "'"  '  '"'  ""'  '""''^•^  ^P^*=«  '•"^""^^  «"  '«  •"«'^« 

rerrLi^LtrTv^ts:""  ^"  """'"^''•'^"^  ^''^^ ""'« -'^  -  - 

The  author  of  this  excellent  tale  is  evidently  an  earnest  man.  ImDre«sed 
wiUi  a  strong  sense  of  the  wron,s  which  the  po^r  Irish  at  service  too  ST  a' 
dure,  he  has  a.med  to  depict  these  in  such  a  manner  as  may  excite  the  attention 

D  t  eTceTn^"'  ''"'  ""'  """'  °"^ '"  '"«  ^"«""«"  ^''-'-'^  t^«  '-"^  o" 
CZ  "  P!'^^T"''-  "^'^  '^'"'*"«'^  "«  ^«^  ^«"  ^''^'ched,  though  the 
incidents  recording  them  are  not  very  artistically  arranged.    The  book  is  a  nr  « 

TrltaT^'"'  readers,  notwithstanding  its  little'def  J'ftrm.-S 

^f  *^v  ^^^  ^^^'    «^'  the  Story  of  a  Convert      Bv 

'^  Very  Reverend  John  Henhy  Newmav    Tl  ti     rI  ♦       ,.7 

mholic  University  of  Ireland,^^.  ^SrcioSi.^SO  cenT'  °'  ^^'^ 

We  were  in  England  when  this  work  first  appeared,  and  well  remember  the 

j»«.  ^T.;t  h;sh;;id^-.;;-;7r^:;:£ -^^^^ 

.?k"so  low  T'^"""'^'  •'"^"-    ""''^^  '^"""^  ''•'-'  believe  Nrwm^'^rS 
sink  so  low.    We  knew  one  young  man,  who  had  been  a  great  admirer  of  Mr 

serSnfV"  '"•''"""  '°  ^'°  twenty-seven  .ue^ions  whid  WiSi 
sent  Reding.  He  was  going  to  publish  the  answer  in  the  English  Churchman 
we  believe;  but  somehow  one  or  two  points  were  not  quite  clear  to  hTm  and 
he  reserved  the  paper  till  he  had  examined  them  a  little  further;  he  pum^d  tSj 
eiamination  till  he  became  a  Catholic.  There  never  was  a  livelier  or  t^«n^ 
jure  of  any  state  of  society  than  "  Loss  and  Gain  »  giveroJ  he  «n  ver^rdl" 

from  exaggeration  and  is  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  wittiest  stories,  and  t^ 
most  devoid  of  malice  that  ever  was  penned.    It  is  addressed  to  a  very  I  gh  orSeJ 

slumhir  ''  '"  --PoP"'-ity;  but  it  will  gain  admirer7for 'v  r  w" 
shouKl  think ;  yes  even  when  it  is  itself  the  only  relic  (like  Fielding's  noveL  to 
J»ftBe  literature)  of  tbe  social  state  it  describes.  -  Metropolitan  (LolicJ^ 


DONAJIOE'S    rUBlICATIONS. 


THE  TRIALS  OF  A  MIND  IN  ITS  PROGRESS 

TO  CATHOLICISM.  In  a  Letter  to  his  old  Friends.  By  L.  Sil- 
LIMAN  Ives,  LL.  D.,  late  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 
in  North  Carolina.     12mo.,  cloth,  50  csnts. 

Opinions  of  the  Press. 

The  book  is  evory  way  equ'M  to  what  was  expected.  It  is  well  written,  ar- 
Ciimentative,  and  convincing  ;  and  no  one,  we  tiiiiik,  seeking  truth,  can  rend  it. 
following  step  by  step  the  jtrogrssa  of  Dr.  Iven's  niinil,  witlumt  being  convinced 
of  the  important  truths  he  is  led  to  investigate.  We  are  glad  to  hear  it  is 
meeting  witli  an  unprecedented  Rale,  as  it  will  be  tlie  in^itninient  of  much 
good.  We  earnestly  recommend  it  to  our  readers  and  all  those  inquiring  after 
truth. —  Pittsburg  Catholic. 

This  long  and  eagerly-expected  publication  has  at  length  reached  the  West. 
The  delay  in  forwarding  it  arose,  as  we  learn  from  a  note  of  tlie  publisher,  out 
of  the  immense  and  unprecedented  demands  for  it  which  are  reiiching  him  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  and  which  several  printing  presses,  kept  in  constant 
play,  have  as  yet  been  inefTective  to  siip])ly.  'J'lie  typography  of  the  work  is 
extremely  creditable  to  Mr.  Donahoe,  the  enterprising'publisiiur.  On  this  point 
he  has  left  the  reader  nothing  to  desire,  either  as  respects  clearness  and  bril- 
liancy of  impression,  or  the  neat,  compact,  and  convenient  form  in  which  tlio 
book  is  presented  to  the  public.    ■ 

Of  the  merits  of  the  work  itself  we  presume  we  need  riot  speak  at  length, 
after  the  specimen  of  its  style  and  manner  which  we  pave  last  week.  Written 
in  a  tone  of  rare  modesty  and  translucent  candor,  it  still  does  nut  lack  that  vigor 
and  purity  of  style,  deep  research,  cogent  reasoning,  and  simple,  touching  elo- 
quence which  might  be  expected  from  the  reputation  for  erudition  and  mental 
force  which  Dr.  Ives  always  had  among  his  co-religionists  up  to  the  period  when 
he  resolved  upon  the  rending  sacrifice  of  which  this  volume  furnishes  the  rea- 
sons. Its  publication  will  show  the  desperate  falseness  of  the  allegation  by 
which  the  ex-bishop's  friends  endeavored  to  account  for  his  coi:version,  and 
which  it  is  pmhable  themselves  never  believed.  The  Protestant  Churchman, 
we  observe,  in  noticing  the  work,  says  it  "  should  like  to  see  those  bishops,  who 
pronounced  Dr.  Ives  mud,  andertake  to  refute  this  book," 

Thi.i  bonk  will  pr..l)a[)ly  have  a  larger  sale  than  any  controversial  work  jl^r 
published  in  this  country.  The  copies  for  sale  at  the  office  of  the  VindicatoJ^iB 
already  nearly  all  gone  ;  but  a  furtlier  supply  will  soon  reach  us. —  Detr^jSj^ai^ 
olic  Vindicator.  w/^^ 

Protestant  Oplnlonsi 

The  Newport  (R.  I.)  JVews  thus  criticizes  the  book  ;  —  "  This  will  be  a  work  of 
exceeding  interest  bt)th  to  Catholics  and  Protestants,  as  Dr.  Ives  gives  his  rea- 
sons for  leaving  the  Episcopal  Church  and  entering  the  Catholic  Church.  In 
whatever  light  Protestants  may  regard  this  change  in  the  religions  opinions  of 
the  author,  they  certainly  cannot  charge  him  with  any  ambitious,  dishonest,  or 
unholy  motive,  because,  as  far  as  distinctions  on  earth  are  concerned,  he  Liad 
gained  all  that  man  can  have  in  the  ministry,  as  far  as  preferment  is  concerned 
in  the  Episcopal  Church.  He  was  one  of  its  bislwps  for  more  than  twenty 
vears  ;  and,  in  entering  the  Church  of  Rome,  lie  ac^piires  no  distinction.  He, 
being  a  married  man,  cannot  ever  be  a  priest  in  that  Church.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, we  think  that  all  must  at  least  give  him  credit  for  honesty  and  sin- 
cerity in  the  course  which  he  has  pursued.  The  work  is  carefully  and  elabo- 
rately written,  and  indicates  throughout  the  fervency  of  a  Christian  spirit.  We 
commend  it  to  the  perusal  of  all  Chris:ians,  that  they  may  fully  comprehend  the 
motives  which  induced  the  step  which  :!ie  author  has  taken,  and  the  reasons 
which  led  him  into  the  Catholic  Church." 

This  is  a  plain  and  lucid  statement  of  the  difRculties  which  beset  the  mind 
of  Bishop  Ives  during  his  ministry  in  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  of  the  satis- 
faction that  he  has  felt  since  his  union  with  the  Church  of  Rome.  He  baa 
given  the  highest  evidence  of  the  sincerity  of  his  convictions,  whatever  our 
opinion  may  be  of  their  soundness.  A  bishop,  loved,  honored,  and  respected, 
he  has  sacrificed  position  and  fortune  in  the  pursuit  of  what  he  believed  to  be 
the  truth.  Being  a  person  of  learning,  also,  nut  misled  by  a  partial  view  of  the 
question,  his  book  commands  the  culm  investigation  of  every  mind  solicitous 
far  the  trutlk  —  Pkila.  City  Item. 


\ 


